iSmile For the Cameras
by punkrokprincess144
Summary: Sam's been acting strange lately, and Freddie is determined to find out what's up. However, what happens when he learns that Sam's actually a model? And what other talents has she been hiding from him and Carly? Review Please!
1. Chapter 1

**iSmile For the Cameras**

**Sam's been acting strange lately, and Freddie is determined to find out what's up. However, what happens when he learns that Sam's actually a model? And what other talents has she been hiding from him and Carly? Review Please!**

**Rating: T (Cause I'm really not sure where this will go)**

**Disclaimer: [insert witty disclaimer here]**

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Freddie Benson had seen Carly Shay in plenty of different moods: happy, sad, worried, surprised, everything. She was the type of girl who you could read like a book; she didn't hide anything. However, even though Freddie had seen her even in her worst moments, he had never seen her really mad in a long time…until now.

"Where is she!" Carly growled as she paced the iCarly studio. Her hands were balled into tight fists and her eyes were narrowed to the size of slits.

"I don't know," Freddie answered her same question again for what felt like the millionth time. He found that when Carly was angry, it was best to let her rant, and to stay out of her way. Carly groaned angrily under her breath and whirled around to face Freddie.

"This is the third time this week that she's canceled rehearsal, you know!" She nearly yelled. Freddie resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he knew, he had been the one Sam had told when she couldn't make the first rehearsal on Tuesday. She bailed on Wednesday too, and on Thursday she didn't even tell them why she couldn't make it. Now, here they were, Friday and very much without the blonde headed demon.

"She didn't even tell me why she couldn't make it," Carly thought aloud, her anger beginning to subside, "Did she tell you?" She nearly attacked Freddie.

"Nope," He answered, shaking his head. Carly sighed and sank into one of the three bean bag chairs. She looked so defeated, but admittedly less angry, so Freddie presumed that it would be safe to finally contribute. "But she wasn't in sixth or seventh period,"

Carly's gaze immediately went to him, "She wasn't?" She asked, "How do you know?"

"Well we have World Lit together seventh period, and Wendy said that she wasn't in their Drama class in sixth,"

"Weird," Carly murmured. They grew silent for a minute, both lost in their own thoughts. "Freddie," Carly broke the silence, "Do you think Sam has been acting a little…strange lately?"

Freddie's brow furrowed in thought. Sam had been acting sort of weird lately, "Yeah, she's seemed kinda evasive almost,"

"I hope nothing's wrong," Carly muttered. Freddie jumped. Something couldn't seriously be…wrong with Sam, could it? Immediately he was filled with worry. He knew that if Sam was in some kind of trouble, she would never tell him or Carly. And the thought that she could be out there all alone and scared tortured Freddie, thought he didn't really know why he cared so much.

"Yeah…" He replied in a worried tone, "Me too,"

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Sam slammed her locker shut with a loud, ringing clatter that echoed around the hall and caused a group of little Freshmen girl's to jump. They looked reproachfully at Sam as the scurried away, and Sam sneered back before throwing her backpack on the ground and sliding down next to it, leaning again her locker. She was exhausted. She rested her forehead on her bent knees and knotted her fingers into her wild golden curls, but her headache didn't surrender. She could practically still see the bright flashes exploding all around her mind.

"Sam?" A voice came from above her. Sam looked up to see Wendy staring down at her with big, concerned eyes. The gossip guru cocked her head slightly to the side while she examined the tired girl. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Sam grumbled.

"Are you su-"

"Wendy!" Sam spat. A warning. Wendy jumped and mumbled an apology before scampering away to join two other girls. As they passed Freddie and Carly, one of the girls hastily asked Wendy, "What's wrong with Sam?"

Freddie and Carly looked at each other with equal concern as they headed towards the lockers. Sam had gone back to her previous position of her head against her knees, and her arms wrapped around her legs in turn.

"Sam?" Freddie started timidly. Sam's head jerked up, her eyes flashing with obvious annoyance.

"What, nub!" She spat. Freddie and Carly jumped.

"Are you okay?" Carly asked cautiously. Sam rolled her eyes.

"Why do people keep asking that? First Gibby, then Wendy, now you too?"

"Maybe cause you look like you just ran a marathon?" It was now Carly's turn to roll her eyes. "And you've been acting kinda weird lately," Freddie added, earning a half annoyed, half grateful look from Carly.

"Have not," Sam disagreed, standing up grudgingly as the bell overhead rang. The warning bell.

"Then why have you missed the past three rehearsal's _and _were gone yesterday for the past two periods?" Carly asked, putting her arms meaningfully on her hips.

"How did you know that?" Sam asked incredulously, and when Carly glanced at Freddie, Sam glared at him.

"So where were you?" Freddie pressed.

"I've just been too busy with stuff to come to rehearsal, it's not a big deal, besides, I don't see how it's any of your business, Freddifer," Sam answered, looking at her nails with her practiced indifference. The façade was all too familiar to Freddie, and he didn't buy it for one minute.

"Then why were you out of school early yesterday?"

"Come on, Freddork, you've known me long enough to accept that if skipping school was an Olympic Sport, I'd be the gold medalist," The second warning bell rang and Sam grabbed her backpack. "Well, as much fun as this interrogation has been, I have Miss Briggs next, and she keeps threatening to get me expelled if I'm late again to her class," Sam then snorted indignantly to herself, "She should be thankful I show up at all. Later," She turned to leave, but Carly grabbed her arms and stopped her. Sam turned around and Carly walked towards the shorter girl, examining her with an air of expert observation. Her eyes narrowed.

"Why do you have glitter in your hair?" She asked, plucking one of the many sparkles from her blonde curls. Sam's cheeks turned slightly red, but she kept on the _I-Couldn't-Care-Less _expression.

"How should I know," She scoffed, "Let's just do rehearsal tonight," She told them, and before either Freddie of Carly could stop her, she was gone.

"I don't believe her," Carly muttered.

"Neither do I," Freddie replied, a strange expression on his face, "Not for one second,"

The bell rang, signaling the start of first period. They were late.

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That night, Freddie laid in his bed in total darkness, staring straight up at the ceiling. Dim, autumn moonlight fell through his window and spilt onto his bed and down to the floor. Freddie sighed again, for what seemed like the millionth time, and turned his head slowly to look at his digital clock. 2:35 in the morning. Ugh, but Freddie couldn't relax. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts.

What was Sam hiding. He hated the thought of her keeping secrets from him. Even though it seemed otherwise, Sam was truly his best friend. He knew that he could trust her with his life, even though she was sometimes the cause of almost ending his life. The question was, why couldn't she trust him? Or Carly? The two had been best friends for years. The whole situation just seemed so…odd.

_Gosh, Freddie, snap out of it, _Freddie thought brutally to himself, _this is Sam we're talking about here. It's not like you actually care about her. _

_ Well…_Freddie argued with himself, _You've been best friends, whether she'll admit it or not, for a long time. It's totally natural for you to care about her. _

_ Yeah, but you care for her in a completely different way than you care for Carly. With Sam, it's like you're obsessed with making sure she's not going to get hurt. It's like you're in love with her or something. _

Freddie sat straight up at the mere thought. There was no way that he, Freddie Benson, could ever, ever, _ever, _like Samantha Puckett. None. Zero. Zilch. Freddie turned to lay on his side, staring intensely around his room. His eyes rested on the two pictures that rested on his nightstand. He reached over and picked them both up. The first was one that had been taken at Webicon. It was of Sam with her arms around both him and Carly. They all still had mud and dirt on their clothes, hair and face, but they were beaming happily. A ghost of a smile traced across Freddie's face and he put the picture down to look at the second one.

The minute that he looked at the picture, his stomach swooped and his blood began to pump even faster. The picture was of him and Sam one night when they were filming Wake Up Spencer. It had been taken only three months ago, so the two still looked the same. It had been a particularly good segment and the two had been feeling rather victorious when Freddie had taken out his camera and snapped a picture of them both for 'memories sake'. Sam had been in such a good mood that she hadn't even cared. You could see their torsos only, and the Shay's living room in the background. Freddie was wearing a grey t-shirt, and Sam was wearing a tight fitting garnet coloured tank top. Freddie's hair was messier than it usually was, and his chocolate eyes were alive with happiness. As Freddie looked again at Sam, his breath caught in his throat. Her skin was practically glowing, and her light, turquoise eyes were sparkling. She was smiling, a genuinely happy Sam Puckett smile, and her golden curls were wild, yet beautiful. The picture perfectly translated Sam's wild, feisty personality, a personality that Freddie hadn't seen for the past few weeks. Freddie set the picture back down with shaking hands and sank back into his bed, flipping over as to escape the pictures captivating trance. As Freddie fell into sleep's gently grasp, the single most terrifying realization came over Freddie, a realization that in the morning he would brush off as pure exhaustion. He was falling for Sam Puckett, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had to figure out what was wrong with her. He just had to.

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"Carly! Are you in there!" Freddie knocked rapidly on the Shay's door. If he didn't talk to Carly quickly, he was going to be late for his first class for the second time in a week. When no one answered, he knocked again, more loudly, "CARLY!"

"COME IN, FREDDIE!" He heard Carly yell back. Freddie opened the door in time to see Carly running down the stairs while she put her dark hair into a ponytail. "What's up?"

"So, you know how Sam's been acting all freaky lately?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Carly groaned.

"Who's been acting all freaky?" Spencer asked as he entered the room.

"Sam," Freddie replied. Spencer looked at Carly.

"Oh yeah, Carly told me,"

"What about her?" Carly continued.

"Well, she keeps disappearing to some random place, and when we see her after that, she's always really tired," Freddie explained to Carly and Spencer, who were both nodding, "And I bet that whatever she's doing there is the reason she's been all vague lately."

"Yeah, so what's your point," Carly asked with a sly gleam in her eyes.

"Well," Freddie started, "I'm going to follow her one day after school and see where she goes. Do you think it's a good idea? I just wanna make sure that she's not getting hurt,"

"Yeah, I think it's a great idea," Carly was smiling widely, for reasons unknown to Freddie.

"What?" He asked in a scared voice.

"You care about Sam," She and Spencer smiled knowingly at each other.

"Of course I do, she's my friend,"

"And you want to help her," Spencer added.

"Yes," Freddie stressed again, "Because she's my friend,"

"Only your friend?" Carly and Spencer asked rhetorically at the same time.

"Yes!" Freddie yelled, frustrated. "Sam and I are best friends and I just want to make sure that she doesn't get hurt.

"Well," Carly rolled her eyes incredulously, "If you're sure,"

"Of course I'm sure," He turned to leave, "We're best friends and that's all,"

When the door slammed shut behind him, Carly squealed in delight, clapping her hands together in excitement.

"Why are you so happy?" Spencer asked, grabbing the carton of juice from the refrigerator. "Freddie still refuses to admit that he's head over heels in love with Sam. We're not making any progress in the Get-Sam-And-Freddie-Together department.

"Nope," Carly told Spencer, "We just made excellent progress right there,"

"How?"

"Freddie just admitted that he and Sam are best friends," She grinned at the door through which Freddie had just departed, "And if that's not progress, I don't know what is. "

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**Awful? Terrible? Okay? Please review and let me know what you thought. I'm not sure if I should continue this or not, but if you like the idea, I would love to hear your critiques and ideas! **

**Thank yew oh so very much! **

**P.S. The Harry Potter premier. I can only say one thing: Neville Longbottom is a BOSS. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Aloha my beautiful readers and reviewers! Thanks for all the great feedback from the first chapter of iSmile For The Cameras! It was great to hear that, well, you guys didn't think my story sucked. **

**Here's the second chapter. Please tell me what you think, et cetera, et cetera. **

**Disclaimer: *sigh* Unfortunately, no, I still don't own iCarly.**

Freddie wasn't usually one to slack off during class. He was never bored, and on the rare chance that he was antsy to leave the class, he didn't let it affect him. However, sitting in his seventh period photography class with only five minutes left, he looked more eager for school to end than anyone. He was tapping his pencil rapidly against the side of his desk, and as he let out another heavy sigh, the guy next to him, Jake, looked at his friend in concern.

"Man, are you okay?"

Freddie jumped and looked at Jake, "Yeah, I'm fine,"

"If you say so," Jake rolled his eyes and went back to looking at his camera. Freddie sighed again, more subtly this time, though. He was definitely not okay. Today he was planning on following Sam to see where she kept disappearing. Only five minutes and he would be in spy-mode. He knew that if Sam caught him, he would be dead.

When the bell rang, Freddie was out the door and in front of his locker more quickly than anyone else. He threw in his unneeded books, grabbed some of his binders, and walked over to Carly, who was chatting with Gibby and Wendy. When he approached, Carly pulled him aside.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She hissed, searching to make sure that Sam didn't suddenly appear. "I mean, this is Sam we're talking about. If she finds out what you're doing, she'll do much worse than just _kill _you,"

"Thanks for the support, Carly," Freddie muttered sarcastically, "But yeah, I'm gonna do it. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

Carly simply stared at him for a moment, "You are a good deal braver than I am. Then again, you do have a crush on her," Before Freddie could process what Carly had just said, she was gone, chasing after Wendy and Gibby. He walked over to Sam's locker and waited for about ten minutes. _Where is she? _He wondered. Sam was never late to her locker. 'The sooner I'm out of this prison the better' she'd always say. Freddie looked around anxiously and saw Rip-Off Rodney scamming a few freshmen and hurried over to him while the freshmen left.

"Hey, Rodney, do you know where Sam is?" He asked. Rodney looked at Freddie in slight surprise.

"She left right after lunch in fourth period. We have math together,"

Freddie mentally cussed but pressed Rodney for the details, "Did someone come to get her?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it," Rodney replied thoughtfully, scratching the back of his head, "Tall dude in a real fancy suit with freaking awesome shades. He didn't say why he was taking her though," Rodney suddenly looked at Freddie with curiosity, "Why do you ask?"

"We're supposed to st-study together today," Freddie stuttered, his lie obviously fake. Rodney cocked an eyebrow at him, but shrugged as Freddie scurried away. Almost instantaneously, Wendy appeared next to him.

"Hey Rodney," She started in a sugary tone, "Who was Freddie looking for?"

"Sam Puckett," Rodney replied, looking absentmindedly at some of his merchandise, "It was weird to. He was really set on finding her, and then he fed me some BS lie about then supposedly studying together today. Like Sam would put the effort in to actually study,"

Wendy was staring off into the distance, the familiar spark of a new juicy tidbit of gossip in her eyes. "Freddie and Sam, eh?" She grinned to herself, "No one's gonna believe this!" And with that, she dashed away.

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"Hey guys?" Sam called as she entered the Shay's apartment. It was five o'clock, and rehearsal was supposed to start at four forty-five, but she couldn't exactly get out of the plans that she had. She threw her bag into the corner of the living room and looked around warily at the dead silent room. She cupped her hands around her mouth and gave another echoing shout, "GUYS!"

"WE'RE UP HERE, SAM!" She heard Carly yell back from the studio. Sam sighed and started up the staircase. Her feet felt heavy, and she wanted nothing more that to curl up on the couch and fall asleep…maybe eat some ham too…but her damn agent told her that she couldn't gain any weight right now, and ham was bad for her. _Hello? _She thought to herself, _Does he not realize that I have the metabolism of an elephant? _

When she entered the studio, she found Carly and Freddie sitting in the bean bag chairs, Carly holding a notebook while they discussed ideas for the upcoming iCarly. When Sam walked through the studio door, the two looked up immediately and looks of relief flashed across their faces. Sam was slightly perplexed by this, but kept up her nonchalant demeanor.

"'Sup, peeps," She dropped her bag next to the remaining empty bean bag, which the then flopped into.

"Sam! You made it!" Carly smiled genuinely. Freddie frowned slightly as he noticed the bags under Sam's eyes, and the way her fingers were trembling.

"I was in the neighborhood," She waved her hand absentmindedly, but Freddie still didn't believe her. "So, what do we have planned,"

"Well, do you remember how we've gotten all those letters from fans lately who have been calling us internet celebrities or whatever?"

"We have?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Freddie rolled his eyes, "Continue, Carly,"

"Anyway," Carly obliged, "Freddie and I thought that it would be funny to do a skit targeting celebrities. You know, stuck up actresses and snobby models and such,"

Sam stared at Carly with wide eyes, "Models?" She asked weakly, "And…actresses?"

"Yeah," Carly's smile faded as Sam continued to refuse to smile, "Why, is something wrong?"

"No," Sam shook her head quickly, as though trying to clear her mind, "No, that…that's great. Really funny," She smiled, a fake smile, Freddie noticed. "Do you have script or anything yet?"

Freddie watched Sam carefully as Carly explained the plotline of the skit. She nodded every once and a while, and gave the occasional "Okay," and "Sounds good," when Carly paused. Still, her eyes were glassy and glazed over, and she still looked exhausted.

"So," Carly finished, "What do you think?" Sam was still staring at her, though, clearly zoned out. "Sam," Carly waved a hand in front of Sam's face, and the blonde jumped.

"Sounds cool," Sam told Carly, and Carly smiled, looking pleased with herself.

"Okay, now we just need to figure out what we're gonna do for our opening and closing segments," Freddie piped up. The three sat for a minute in silence until Sam jumped.

"Well, since it's fall and we have to advertise Halloween, we should bring that into our opening and closing,"

"Okay," Carly, smiled slightly, obviously brainstorming.

"I like it," Freddie nodded, grinning at Sam.

"How about-" Carly started, but she was cut off by the loud ringing of Sam's cell phone. It was playing 'Bad Reputation by Joan Jett; a fitting song. Sam jumped and hastily unzipped her bag, digging through it and pulling out her cell. She looked at the contact and her eyes widened.

"Hello?" She answered the call in a suddenly smooth, mature voice. Freddie and Carly glanced at each other in mild shock. They could hear indistinguishable talking coming from the other line and Sam stood up and walked to the other side of the studio. Freddie tried to listen to her, but Carly tapped him and pointed to Sam's bag. Some shimmering black fabric, knitted cream fabric, and flowing white silk. Freddie looked at Carly in confusion. She put her finger to her lips and reach forward, gently pulling the black fabric out of the bag. The two looked at it for a moment until Carly looked at Freddie, her face reflecting complete confusion.

"Freddie," She hissed, "It's a dress,"

"Okay, Jim," Sam was walking towards them, eyes glued to the ground. Carly jumped and hastily shoved the sparkly black dress back into the bag, "Okay. Thank you, I'll be right there,"

Sam shut her phone and turned to face her two best friends, who were trying to look nonchalant, and failing, Freddie guessed, and she ran her fingers through her long hair.

"What's up?" Carly asked, her eyes flickering towards the bag, where she could still see the various fabrics of multiple dresses.

"I-I have to go," Sam stuttered. Freddie was shocked. Usually, Freddie didn't know whether Sam was telling the truth or not, but here, it was obvious that she was groping for some sort of excuse.

"Where?" He asked.

"Uh…" She stuttered, grabbing her bag, "Just…somewhere," And with that she was out of the door.

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When Sam's alarm went off in the morning, a stream of murderous ploys ran across her fuzzy brain. Her arm shot out and she fumbled for the snooze button. Instead, she knocked her alarm clock off of her nightstand. Her icy blue eyes opened with ferocity and she threw her covers off of her body, sitting up quickly. Sam grabbed the alarm clock and rested it back on the nightstand. Thankfully, the beeping had stopped, but the clock also seemed to be completely broken. Great.

Sam looked longingly back at her bed, which had lately become somewhat of a foreign place to her and groaned. The photo shoot last night had taken place in central Seattle, like many often did, but it ran until one in the morning, and she didn't get back until two-thirty. Sam forced herself to stand up and she looked around her room. The walls were lilac, and covered with various posters of rock banks and surf or skating brands. One wall she had decorated with her own personal graffiti, and all of her furniture was cherry red. Sam walked over to her large closet and opened it. Her closet was nearly bigger than her small room, thanks to all of her photo shoots. She bypassed the glamorous dresses and expensive designer clothes, turning instead to her trusty collection of board shorts, hoodies, skinny jeans, and graphic tees. She grabbed her 'Parole Baby' Penny T, grey skinny jeans, and bright orange converse with a teal and grey striped hoodie before heading to her bathroom. Three huge makeup sets were positions on a shelf above her mirror. She only touched them when she had a job, other than that, they remained untouched. Instead, Sam simply fixed her hair, threw one some mascara, and headed out of her room, dragging her back pack with her.

Her mom was already awake, drinking her first of what would be many cups of coffee that day while she watched the morning news. She was wearing a silk robe, and dark eyeliner and sparkly eye shadow were still smudged under her eyelids. Sam peered out of the window and saw an unfamiliar car in their driveway.

"What's his name?" Sam asked, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. Pam glanced up at her daughter and turned back to the TV with a knowing sigh.

"Harold," She answered. Sam rolled her eyes and gabbed a low fat protein bar from the pantry, Jim's orders. "Now I know what you're thinking, Sammy, but Harold's different,"

"You say that about all of them," Sam shot back heading towards the door. Having strange men in her house mornings after her mom spent a night out on the town wasn't uncommon.

"But Harold's sweet, and he's a doctor, he might be able to take care of us and-"

"Just save it," Sam shut her up, hurrying out of the house and slamming the door roughly behind her. As she passed the alleged Harold's car, she kicked the door roughly, leaving a smudge on the shiny white finish. She pulled out her trusty purple iPod nano and turned on her Relient K playlist. She was almost at Ridgeway when her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. Sam jumped, her ear buds flying out of her ears and dangling above the sidewalk as she hastily peered at the screen. Jim Connolly flashed back at her. Sam sighed, knowing that she probably had another shoot to do that afternoon. The main reason she checked the caller ID so thoroughly was so that she knew whether to answer in her 'Sam the Delinquent' voice or 'Sam the Model-slash-Actress-slash-Singer voice'.

"Hello" She greeted Jim smoothly, all traces of exhaustion gone.

"Sam, good morning,"

"Good morning, Jim," She replied in a joking tone. Jim was a great agent, even if he was a bit stuffy sometimes; he did, overall, have a relatively good sense of humour, though. "What's up?"

"I have a job set up for you today," He told her, "And I think you're going to love it,"

"Who's it for?" She asked, the tell tale excitement creeping up on her.

"Juicy Couture's new scent," Jim replied with excitement. Sam held the phone away from her ear for a moment and punched the air with her free fist, whisper-shouting 'Yes!', before putting her cell back to the side of her face.

"Where is it and what time should I be there?" Sam asked the familiar questions.

"I'll send someone by to pick you up," Jim replied.

"Can you send Francisco?" Sam requested.

"Why?"

"One, his car always has Izze Sodas in it, and the good flavors too. You know those are my weakness. Second, his name is Francisco, which is just plain fun to say,"

Jim laughed, a loud, bellowing, good-natured laugh, "I'll see what I can do. He's going to have to pick you up from your school, though,"

Sam bit her lip. That would be the second time this week that she would be skipping school for a shoot. But this was _Juicy Couture! _It could be crucial to her career.

"Okay, what time?"

"About one thirty,"

"Deal,"

"We'll see you there, Sam,"

"See you there, Jim,"

She hung up and the phone and sighed. At least if the shoot was over, she might be able to get home and get some sleep for a change. Sam looked at her phone and gasped when she saw that she was pushing her time; she jogged up the school entryway and to her locker, where Sam and Freddie were already standing with Gibby and Shane.

"Aloha, my peeps," She greeted them, dropping her back pack on the ground and opening her locker by kicking it.

"Hey, Sam," Freddie smiled at Sam, glad to see that she genuinely seemed pleased to see them.

"Oh my gosh, guys!" An excited squeal came from behind them. They turned to see Wendy running up to them, beaming.

"Wendy, what's wrong?" Carly asked immediately.

"Nothing!" She continued, smiling, "Absolutely nothing is wrong, it's great!"

"What are you going on about," Sam drawled, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

"I just found out the most amazing news!" She gushed.

"Miss Briggs is fired?" Gibby suggested, his face lighting up.

"They're serving fried chicken every day at lunch?" Sam glanced at Wendy hopefully.

"No," Wendy shushed them, "I just heard from Kelsey Harkins, who's a member of the school senate, and she says that there's going to be a Halloween Dance!"

She and Carly squealed, while, Freddie, Shane, Gibby, and Sam just looked at each other in confusion.

"A dance?" Shane asked, "On Halloween?"

"I believe that's what the term 'Halloween Dance' implies, Shane," Sam told him. Wendy ignored Sam's sardonic comment and answered Shane.

"Yeah! It's going to start at nine and go till one in the morning, and everyone's supposed to come in costume.,"

"Cool," Gibby grinned, looking around at the group.

"Sounds…interesting…"Freddie glanced and slyly at Sam, and they both snickered. Wendy looked annoyed for a moment, but she shook her hair and grinned triumphantly.

"Well I think it's going to be awesome," She announced, "I'm gonna go tell everyone else. See ya at lunch!" She waved and hurried over to the nearest group of students, who a moment later were all squealing in delight.

"Ugh," Sam suddenly groaned, rolling her eyes as she slammed her locker and picked up her back pack.

"What," Freddie smirked, "Princess Puckett doesn't like dances?"

"For once, Freddoofus, you are actually right about something," She smirked slightly, her trademark side grin and walked past him, her shoulder brushing against his chest, sending shivers up and down his spine. He looked down at his feet to hide his blushing face. Suddenly, the bell rang. Sam continued to make her way down the hallway, when Gibby stopped her.

"Wait, Sam, we have Algebra this way," She pointed down the hall in the other direction. Sam rolled her eyes.

"I know," She told him, "I'm not an idiot, Gib,"

"Then where are you going?"

"Today's Fried Chicken Friday," She told him like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm gonna go get some for Algebra. Maybe that will make the class a bit more interesting. Gibby looked at her retreating form and turned back to the group.

"I feel bad for whoever gets the nerve up to ask Sam out," He shook his head slowly, "No guy will ever be able to figure _that _out,"

"Freddie," Shane nudged the tech wiz, "Are you coming? We have Chemistry, and you know how much O'Connell hates late comers," Shane then grinned, "Unless you want to tell her that you were late because you couldn't stop staring at Sam Puckett,"

"Sh-Shut up," Freddie replied, a scarlet blush creeping up his face as he watched Sam prance down the hallway, strutting as though it was a runway and she was the model. Suddenly, he noticed that a paper had fluttered out off her bag and landed a foot away from him. Freddie leaned down and picked it up, shoving it in his back pack. Meanwhile Carly watched him with a bemused look. _I have got to get them together for the Dance, _she thought while she and Gibby headed towards Algebra.

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Freddie tapped his pencil anxiously on his desk. Even though it was only one o'clock, he couldn't wait for school to be over. After his failed attempt to follow Sam, he was praying that she wouldn't get pulled out of school early again.

"Freddie?" Mr. Spencer, their history teacher broke through Freddie's nervous concentration.

"Yes?" He asked, jumping slightly.

"Do you have your essay?" Mr. Spencer asked, looking slightly concerned. Freddie jumped and grabbed the small stack of papers from his binder before handing it to the middle aged teacher, who nodded and walked away.

"Wow, nub, I thought you weren't gonna turn it in for a second there," A sarcastic voice came from behind him. Freddie turned to see Sam, smirking at him. Only a few minutes were left in class and Mr. Spencer had given the students free range to talk. Sam walked over and sat on the top of Freddie's desk, propping her feet up on the desk next to his.

"I notice that you never turned your essay in,"

"Right you are, Fredmonger,"

"Fredmonger?" Freddie raised his eyebrow at Sam, a smirk on his face.

"Would you prefer Fredwina?"

"Point taken,"

Freddie opened his mouth, preparing to casually ask her if she was going to be at Carly's that night when Mr. Spencer appeared behind Sam and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Miss Puckett?" He started, "It's one-twenty right now,"

"Oh," Sam's eyes darted to the clock, "Oh yeah. I'd better head out,". She jumped off of Freddie's desk and grabbed her own back pack from her desk while Freddie watched her, his eyes growing wide and his mouth gaping.

"Are you leaving?" Freddie stuttered as Sam swung her backpack over her shoulder.

"Yup, so I'll see ya later, nub" She replied, looking at him as though the fact was obvious. She strode over to the door with her practiced air of confidence.

"Where are you going?" Freddie asked her, but Sam ignored him and left the classroom.

"She's been acting so strange lately," Shane commented, half to Freddie, half to himself. Freddie's brow furrowed in concern. "Do you know why?"

"Why would I know?" Freddie asked in a melancholy voice .

"Well, you two are best friends," Shane laughed. Freddie felt his heart rate increase. He forced out a laugh and then looked the other way, disappointed that his demon of a best friend had once again escaped his grasps.

.

.

.

"CARLS! ARE YOU IN HERE!" Sam yelled as she stepped into the Shay's apartment. She took a final furious scrub at her eyes in an effort to get the shimmery eye shadow off of her face.

"I'm in the kitchen, Sam," Carly laughed, poking her head out from crouched behind the kitchen counter.

"Food?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Soon," Carly laughed as Sam walked slowly towards her and leaned tiredly against the island. Carly straightened up with a pot in her hand, which she filled with water and poured a box of spaghetti into. "Spencer told me to start up the noodles for spaghetti pasta. Sound good?"

"Yeah, awesome," Sam sighed, resisting the urge to close her eyes and fall asleep right at the counter. Carly glanced at her and did a double take.

"Oh my gosh, Sam, are you okay? You look exhausted,"

"Nailed it," Sam groaned.

"Well, go relax on the couch. We can watch Celebrities Underwater,"

"But you hate Celebrities Underwater," Sam pointed out as Carly led her to the couch.

"It's not that bad," Carly lied obviously. Sam ignored this and gratefully collapsed on the couch, leaning her head on Carly's shoulder. The girl's watched Girly Cow after that while they ate their spaghetti tacos, and then Carly suggested that they watch a movie.

"What movie?"

"I don't know," Carly muttered, pondering their choices.

"Abnormally Scary Activity?" Sam suggested, and Carly shuddered.

"How about not something that'll make me pee my pants,"

"Wuss," Sam rolled her eyes, but smiled. Carly scanned her and Spencer's large collection of DVD's until her finger froze above a certain title. _She might kill me…_Carly thought _Meh, why not! I like this movie. _Carly pulled the movie out and popped it into the DVD player. Skipping through the previews, Carly could hear Sam polishing off her third fruit Kabob. With the enthusiasm that she was putting into eating, Carly would have guessed that the girl had been starved for the past few weeks.

"Uh…" Sam's voice was suddenly present as the main menu of the movie came up, "Please telling me this is a joke,"

"What?" Carly asked innocently, "I thought you liked this movie,"

"The First Kiss?" Sam exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the screen with a look of incredulous disgust and…apprehension perhaps? "This movie blows! Remember? We saw it when-"

"-Yes?" Carly smirked wickedly, and Sam's face grew red. _Stop blushing, Puckett, get a hold of yourself. _

"Nothing," Sam muttered, gnawing on the empty kabob stick

"When you and Freddie kissed?" Carly suggested in a would-be casual tone. Sam glared at her.

"Carls, you are treading into some pretty dangerous waters," Sam growled. They weren't even paying attention to the beginning of the movie.

"Why so defensive?"

"Why so curious?" Sam shot back.

"Free country," Was Carly's simple answer as she turned back to the screen and took a sip from her juice pouch. Mmm, Tropical Punch, her favorite. Sam glowered at her from the other side of the couch for another minute before turning grudgingly back to the movie.

By the end of the movie, Carly was in tears. An ecstatic smile was plastered on her face, and tears were openly pouring down her cheeks. She was perched on the edge of the couch, squeezing her now-empty juice pouch in a death grip between her hands. _This movie is adorable, _she thought. The words 'The End' appeared on the screen in curly-cue font, and Carly sighed, wiping the tears from her eyes. _How is Sam holding herself together? _She wondered, turning towards her unusually quiet best friend before laughing. Sam was laying on her side, breathing deeply and softly, fast asleep. Carly giggled again as she stood up, changed to TV to the Food Channel, put the remaining food debris away, and turned back to the couch. She tossed a blanket over Sam, being neither willing enough nor brave enough to disturb the slumber of the fatigued teen. As Carly stepped quietly up the stairs, a small frown appeared on her face. She had meant to ask Sam what was going on, and why she was so exhausted, but had been caught up by the drama of Sam's elusiveness when it came to the subject of the kiss.

Oh well, Freddie was determined enough to find out what was wrong. The boy was crazy in love with Sam anyways.

.

.

.

Freddie slowly opened the door of the Shay's apartment, having used the spare key that they hid in the fake plant next to their door. The living room was dark, lit only by the glowing of the TV. Freddie crept forward quietly and looked around. He had thought that Sam was staying at Carly's that night, or at least he thought Carly had mentioned that at lunch. Sure enough, there was Sam, passed out on the couch. Freddie walked forward and stared at her for a moment, not even taking in the thought of how creepy this must seem. One of her arms was tucked up to her chest, gripping the blanket that covered the rest of her body, and the other arched off of the couch, her fingertips inches from the ground. Her long hair cascaded off of the couch in a waterfall of golden curls, and her face was peaceful. Sam never looked peaceful, ever.

"Sam," Freddie hissed, nudging her shoulder slightly, "Sam, wake up, come on,"

Sam whimpered wearily and shifted slightly. As Freddie persisted with his shoving, she stirred more and opened her eyes, blinking them rapidly as she took in the situation. She then jumped up, eyes fiery with anger.

"Fredwad, what the hell are you doing!" She growled, shoving her fist in his face. Freddie backed up several feet, shaking his head in surrender.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to do Wake Up Spencer tonight," He shrugged, holding up his small camcorder. Sam groaned and flopped back down on the couch in exhaustion.

"Not tonight, Frednub," She mumbled sleepily.

"Why not?"

"Too tired," Was her response. Freddie's look of concern deepened. Like always, he felt the need to protect her. In a sudden rush of ferocity, he grabbed her shoulder's and pulled her gently but firmly up into a sitting position. Sam's eyes were wide and shocked; nobody manhandled her like that…because nobody ever dared to try.

"Sam," Freddie started in a serious tone, "What is up with you lately?"

"What do you mean, what's up with me?" Sam asked, shrugging her shoulder in indifference.

"You're exhausted all the time, you skip school, you seem distracted and stressed, and you've been acting so differently lately. You're really shifty and weird and you don't…you don't talk to me anymore…"

The last part of Freddie's short rant decreased to a whisper, and Sam felt sudden tension amount between them. Her body was stiff; she didn't like emotional confrontation like this, and Freddie knew that; emotions were too risky.

"I talk to you," Sam tried desperately to keep the fight in her voice, "I mean…we're talking right now…" She ended weakly.

"Yeah, because I broke into Carly's apartment at three-thirty in the morning and forced you," He retaliated.

"I see you at school," Sam pointed out, racking her brains to get him off the topic.

"Yeah, but it's not the same!" Freddie nearly yelled, catching Sam by surprise. It was very rare that Freddie participated in verbal confrontation such as this; he preferred to let things smooth over. "Sam, I feel like you're keeping things from Carly, and from me! We used to tell each other things, and the fact that you're just being so secretive is…eerie. Look, I know there are plenty of things that you don't tell me, but I thought we had a better relationship that this. I thought we were done with the sneaking around and lying,"

"Lying is my specialty," Sam grinned slightly, "And what are you talking about with all this 'stuff I haven't told you' crap. You know everything about me, practically,"

"Oh yeah?" Freddie challenged.

"Yeah!" Sam countered, "You could ask me anything and I could tell you,"

"Fine," Freddie faced her with an unfamiliar tint of fire in his chocolate eyes, "Tell me about your dad,"

It was obvious that Sam was completely unprepared for this question. Her eyebrows shot up, and her eyes widened; they were filled with emotions that Freddie had never seen associated with Sam; Fear, sadness, regret, despair. All there, right in her wondrous gemstone eyes. Her face fell, and she looked down at her hands.

"I'm sorry," She muttered after an eternity, and it took all of Freddie's willpower for him to now gasp, "You're right. I guess…" She looked him dead in the eyes, "Look, it's really difficult for me to trust people. A lot of chiz had happened to me that made me really…abrasive, and I just…" Her voice became passionate with hysteria, "I can't tell you that,"

Freddie sighed, "I understand. I really do. Just know that whenever you're ready to talk," He patted her leg, "I'm here,"

"You'd better watch that hand if you wanna keep it," Sam replied, back in full-sarcastic swing. Freddie whipped away his hand, which was still resting on her thigh.

"Right, sorry," He then smiled, "Thanks for telling me all that, Sam,"

"Why exactly did I tell all of that to you?" She asked in regret, rolling her eyes.

"Because face it," Freddie started, standing up and heading for the door, "Even though you say you hate me, and I say I hate you, we are best friends,"

Sam sat for a moment, taking in his words, and Freddie walked to the door. He was closing it behind him when something stopped it. Freddie turned to see Sam staring at him with a burning intensity, and his heart swooped.

"If you ever tell anyone this, I'll deny it," She started fiercely, but sighed, letting her tough façade slip away for a brief moment, "You are my best friend," She looked down at her feet, and then up at him, "I thought I should let you know,"

"Thanks, Puckett," He smiled. As he was about to disappear through his own apartment door, she stopped him again.

"Benson," The rough voice was back, the glimpse of the girl behind the mask was gone, not that Freddie disliked rough Sam over sensitive Sam. He turned.

"Yes, Princess Puckett?"

She smiled, a genuine smile. Rare smiled on Sam were rare indeed, "One day, one day soon, I'll tell you about my dad. And anything else you wanna know,"

"I look forward to it," He replied. Her smile then disappeared, turning to a look of annoyance.

"Now do me a favor and save me the agony of looking at your face for another second, nub!" She spat, before disappearing into the Shay's apartment, slamming the door behind her. Freddie chucked, staring at the door for another minute, before he realized how badly he wanted her to come back. He shook his head and disappeared inside, thoughts still on the girl who had just admitted to being his best friend.

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**Am I the only one who can't stop watching the promo for iLost My Mind? Literally, I'm obsessed with it. **

**Review please! I love you all XD **


	3. Chapter 3

Helloooo any faithful readers that I may or may not have gathered over the last two chapters! This one's kinda long, but I guess that's just a matter of opinion. Read on my fellow Seddie lovers!

(By the way, iCarly, me no own. That is all)

Sam folded the strip of paper in her hand over again, folding in one direction and then the other to make a paper snake folded thingy. She got frustrated a moment later and crushed the paper in her fist before throwing it at the back of Haley Trimmer's head. The sounds of a suppressed snicker caused her to look to her right, and she saw Freddie grinning at what she had just done. He caught Sam's eye and she found herself smiling back at him. He looked away and she shook herself, shock coming over her. Why was she smiling? This was Fredward Benson, nerd, nub, and geek extraordinaire. There was nothing to smile about. She tried to make herself glare at him, tried to make herself angry, but like a moment ago, she found her glare softening to a quiet smile. She nearly giggled when he rolled his eyes at something Mr. Spencer, their World History teacher said and a moment later wanted to slap herself. Sam Puckett? Giggling? No. Sam Puckett doesn't _giggle, _hell, Sam Puckett barely smiles genuinely unless she's inflicting pain. Sam bit her lip as she continued staring at Freddie, unable to take her eyes off of him. She had to admit that he was…attractive. Okay, fine, he was downright hot. She took in all of him, just sitting so casually at his desk. His silky looking brown hair was messy and ruffled, but in a good way. His once fair skin had become tan from the fact that he was on swim team during the summer. Sam also had noticed that Freddie had become well toned, and his muscles were now prominent; even now, she could see his well built biceps even though he was only wearing a simple V-Neck shirt. He tapped his foot while he took notes, and Sam noticed that he was wearing the Red Converse High Tops that she had forced him to get to up his 'Cool Factor'. They looked good. Mr. Spencer said something, and Freddie's hand shot up into the air to answer. Sam watched as his Mocha colored eyes flashed with some strange sort of pride when he got the answer right, and Freddie smiled, his soft looking lips pulling back to reveal a set of white, even teeth. Suddenly, Freddie glanced over at Sam, barely catching her eye before she looked hastily down at her blank notebook paper. She didn't believe in taking notes; she preferred to just steal Freddie's and photocopy them.

Freddie meanwhile looked down in defeat when Sam looked away from him. She didn't know that he had been staring at her for the entirety of the class. He looked at her again, studying her. Her long blonde curls were hanging over one shoulder, and her ocean eyes were wide with what Freddie guessed was shock. She tucked one of her loose curls behind her ear, only to have it fall back down in front of her flowing tan skin again. She bit her rosy coloured lip in thought. Freddie sighed in content, but was ripped out of his thoughts when Mr. Spencer asked another question. When he returned to his staring, Wendy caught his eye and cocked his head in questioning. Freddie jumped and pretended to ruffle through his back pack. Suddenly, he came upon a crumpled piece of paper. He took it out gingerly, unfolded it, and realized that it was the paper that had fallen from Sam's backpack.

Freddie smoothed out the paper and looked at it. His brow furrowed with confusion. The words 'Seattle Model and Talent Agency' were printed at the top in big black letters, and under it was 'Talent/Model Application Information,'. Freddie's eyes rapidly scanned the paper. There was a section of the paper labeled 'Talent Description,'. Someone had checked of the options of Model, Singer, and Actor/Actress. At the middle of the paper, the words, 'Applicant number Sixty-Four', and next to that was 'Applicant Name:". Freddie couldn't read the rest of the paper, because it had been ruined; apparently someone had spilt water on the rest of the page, so the words were illegible.

_What the heck? _Freddie thought. Why did Sam have…whatever this was. He had heard of Seattle Model and Talent, but he wasn't really sure what it was. All he knew was where the building for it was in downtown Seattle. He mentally made himself a note to ask Sam about it.

Sam picked up her pencil and drew another star; she had drawn about twenty in the top right corner of her page, and she recently moved on to writing her name in different font styles. She wrote 'Sam' in elaborate fancy and curly font and then wrote 'B-e' before freezing, her pencil poised above the paper. What was she doing? Her heart was beating rapidly, she could hear the blood pounding against her ears. Writing your name with a guys last name is something that girls like Wendy and Carly did, and of frilly, fairy girl, not Sam. _I am not a filly, fairy girl, _Sam thought firmly. She gulped, and flipped the pencil over, the eraser a centimeter above the B; Her hand was trembling. _Well, it's a really, really good B-e. I might as well finish it and not waste my artistic skill, _she thought to herself, flipping the pencil back over. She continued to trace the n-s-o-and n before sitting back up to look at her work. 'Sam Benson' stared back at her, and an overwhelming emotion flashed inside of her. She grabbed the paper in her hand and immediately began to rip it to shreds.

"Miss Puckett?"

"Yes!" Sam jumped, looking wildly at Mr. Spencer, who looked perplexed.

"Do you have something to share with the class?" He asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"N-No," Sam stuttered defensively.

"Then answer me this, Miss Puckett," Mr. Spencer took a few steps towards Sam, who glanced nervously down at the still readable shreds of paper that littered her desk, "Why are you destroying your notes?"

"Uh…" Sam looked around the room, as though hoping a valid excuse would appear to her, "There was a bee on them," She answered hastily, eyes wide.

"A bee…" Mr. Spencer echoed slowly. The soft buzz of whispering was beginning to fill the room as students wondered what Sam Puckett was talking about.

"Yes," Sam replied firmly, "A bee,"

"Well why don't you let me see your notes and I'll see if I can read what you had written before the…bee flew on them," Mr. Spencer made a beeline to her desk (A.N. Haha get it…beeline. BEEline… oh never mind, continue reading). Sam's eyes widened and she snatched the papers closer to her.

"Miss Puckett, what is wrong?" Mr. Spencer asked, obviously exasperated.

"Nothing," She answered quickly.

"Then why are you shaking?"

"I had already finished the B-e!" She answered, making Mr. Spencer even more perplexed.

"What?"

"I'm not a frilly fairy!" She cried, eyes pleading.

"What?" Mr. Spencer asked again.

"What?" Sam replied, now a bit confused as well. They were both saved the prospect of answering, however, when the door flew open. A tall man with hickory colored skin wearing a black suit and black shoes, with dark shades entered.

"C-Can I help you?" Mr. Spencer asked, his voice slightly hysterical.

"I need Samantha Puckett to come with me," He answered in a serious tone. Sam immediately stood up and gathered her books in her backpack, throwing the pieces of torn paper in as well.

"Take her, please," Mr. Spencer shoved Sam lightly towards the man and she smirked at the class when Mr. Spencer's back was turned. The two departed through the door, letting it close behind them. Freddie's ecstatic grin disappeared, and he was left staring at the door with a bubble of realization welling up inside of him.

"You can just…talk for the remaining five minutes of class," Mr. Spencer announced in a tired voice. Wendy immediately turned to Freddie.

"What just happened?" She asked, grinning slightly.

"I have no idea," Shane replied from the seat next to her. "I think Sam's going insane, though," He mused. Freddie gulped and stood up, eyed fixated on Mr. Spencer, who was seated at his desk.

"Freddie?" Shane's voice entered his mind, "Man, are you okay?"

But Freddie didn't answer. Instead he walked right up to the history teacher.

"Mr. Spencer, can I go to the restroom?" He asked in a polite voice. Mr. Spencer didn't even look at Freddie when he muttered a tired 'Yes' and Freddie hurried back to his desk, grabbed his backpack, and nearly ran out of the door, leaving a shocked Wendy and Shane behind him.

He couldn't believe that he was doing this. He was skipping nearly half of the school day. All for Sam Puckett. Why of all girls did he have to be head over heels for her. He rolled his eyes, half angry at himself, and ran towards the nearest bus stop. He hopped in and the bus driver looked at him.

"Where ya headed?" He asked in a gruff voice.

"Uh…" Freddie thought for a moment, "Seattle model and talent agency?" Freddie hoped that the driver would comprehend what he was saying. The man nodded and closed the doors.

"Fai enough," He muttered. The man started the bus, and all Freddie could do was hope that Sam was headed where he was.

.

.

.

"Here we are, Miss Puckett," Francisco announced to Sam, who was lounging in the back of the fancy black car. Sam looked out of the dark tinted windows and saw the Agency's building looming at her. She got out f the car and walked towards the building; the windows winking at her as they glinted in the bright autumn sunlight. Francisco hurried forward and opened the door for her, sending a rush of cool air blasting at her. The lobby of The Agency was bustling with people, all rushing to call their talents. All of the agents and workers wore black, so Sam stuck out in the crowd.

"Good afternoon, Sam," Jim's secretary, Rory greeted the blonde. Rory had dark red hair and big green eyes that were always framed with expertly done eye makeup. "I'll go let Jim know that you're here, and he'll be right down,"

"I can head up if he wants," Sam offered, but Rory shook her head.

"Apparently he wants to make some kind of an entrance with you. He believes that the Juicy Couture marketing agents will be very interested in you,"

Sam rolled her eyes, "Whatever Jim says," She laughed, and Rory left.

Meanwhile, Freddie had just arrived outside of the Agency. He was slightly star struck by the bustling city, and he walked uncertainly into the huge building. The first thing he noticed was that all of the people seemed to be dressed completely in black, and they all seemed to be moving so swiftly that Freddie found himself getting dizzy. The next thing he noticed was the girl who was standing with her back to him, her blonde curls cascading down her back. His first instinct was to run up to her and greet her, to talk to her, but a voice in his head told him that that was a very bad idea. Sam would definitely not like the thought that Freddie trailed her here, or knew to come here because of an address on a paper that he got from her backpack.

"Sam!" A loud, booming voice cut through the bustling murmur, and Freddie jumped. He looked around quickly and considered jumping behind a plant when someone stopped him.

"Excuse me," A man with blonde hair and thick rimmed glasses tapped him, "Are the boy who is scheduled to look around the agency?" Freddie looked at the man with wide eyes, but he continued speaking, "Because if not, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave,"

Freddie glanced over again at Sam, who was talking to the brown haired man who had called her. Any minute now they would probably disappear into the confines of the building, and Freddie wouldn't have a chance of finding them.

"Yes," Freddie replied, his eyes still on Sam. He ripped his gaze away to look at the man, "I was sent to look around and see if I like it,"

"Okay, then, you're officially not my problem," The man replied, flicking his bangs away from his eyes and beginning to walk away.

"Wait," Freddie stopped him, "Can you tell me who-"

"Like I said," He cut Freddie off with an indifferent tone, "Not my problem,"

Freddie sighed in relief and looked again at Sam and the man. He crept towards them, close enough to listen, but far enough away so that they didn't notice him eavesdropping.

"So, Jim, are we talking a photo shoot today or is it a commercial too?"

Photo shoot? Commercial? What was she talking about. Freddie scooted closer.

"Just a photo shoot today," The man called Jim told Sam, "They want to see how you do before they decide if they want you more,"

"Sounds cool," Sam replied, nodding slowly.

"I don't know how late you'll be here, though," Jim told her.

"Great…" Sam sighed, fixing her bag over her shoulder.

"Well," Jim laughed as they walked towards the elevator, "That is what you signed up for,"

"Ah, the life of a model…and actress…and singer," Sam rolled her eyes, but smiled widely. Freddie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Sam? A Model? That could not be possible…then again…she was gorgeous, and she had gotten lead roles in the school plays…and Carly had told him that she had heard Sam singing in the shower once. Supposedly, she was magnificent.

As the two headed towards the elevator, Freddie followed them.

"Floor fourteen, please," Freddie heard Jim say to one of the passengers in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Freddie hopped in the nearest elevator and pressed the button for floor fourteen. The elevator rose at an excruciatingly slow pace before the doors opened and Freddie saw Sam and Jim disappear into a doorway. Freddie pressed his ear against the door and listened. The sounds of loud talking and objects moving could be heard through the smooth oak wood.

Freddie slowly opened the door an inch and found himself in a small hallways, leading to a much larger room. He crept in and looked around. There were about two dozen adults, all dressed in proper attire, talking to Sam, who was smiling politely. Polite? Sam? No…but still. There was a huge balcony in the back of the room, and cameras were positioned in front of it. Another set of cameras was positions in front of a backdrop designed to look like an abandoned swing. It looked so real, that for a moment, Freddie was deeply confused, until he saw the last set, which was a sort of overgrown garden with multicolored flowers and dandelions towering above a small clearing of grass and dirt. His head darted all around the room until he spotted a table near the middle of the room, with a perfect view of all sets. He waited for a moment when everyone was laughing and crouched low, darting behind boxes of what seemed to be props and hiding under it, shielded from view by more boxes stacked near and around it.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Jim announced, "I'd like to introduce you to my client, Samantha Puckett. Sam's one of the best talents that we have,"

Jim pointed to Sam who flashed a dazzling smile at the group. "It's so nice to meet you all," She told them.

"Sam," The lady who appeared to be the leader started. She had bleached blonde hair in a choppy, edgy hairstyle and was wearing a black best over a black tank top, black ripped jeans, and boots. She struck Sam as very creative. Little did she know that Freddie was thinking the exact same thing. "Do you like to be called Sam?"

"Yes," Sam answered, "I much more prefer it to Samantha,"

"Well good," The lady replied with a barking laugh, "We like our models and spokespeople to have opinions,"

"What are your hobbies?" A man standing near the first lady asked, "What do you do in your spare time?"

"Other than Model?" She laughed with the group, "Well, I love art, painting, drawing, that kinda thing, and I also love music. I adore singing, and I've played guitar since I was five. I also love acting, I've been in acting classes since I was three," She then jumped, as though remembering something, "Oh! And I'm co-host of the Web show, iCarly? I don't know if you've ever heard of it,"

The group jumped and began talking immediately.

"Oh," The main lady gushed, "I didn't make the connection between the Model Sam and the iCarly Sam,"

"My daughter loves your show," One man told her, and Sam thanked him.

"Well tell her that we sure do appreciate her watching our show!"

"Well, shall we get to work?" Jim suggested. Immediately, everyone jumped up. "Sam, Austin and Cory are going to do your makeup today,"

"Okay!" She shrugged, grinning at the same man with blonde hair that Freddie had met in the lobby, and at a man with dark skin and dazzlingly white teeth. They led her to another room, presumably the dressing room. Freddie turned back to the group of adults, who were now talking in hushed tones.

"And this is the girl you were telling us about?" The lady asked.

"Yes," Jim nodded enthusiastically. "Samantha Puckett. She's been modeling with us since she was about six years old. She also is an amazing actor and singer. Really, she had the voice of an angel, I guarantee. She's one of the best models in the entire agency," Freddie shook his head slightly, this realization overwhelming.

"Well I love her attitude," The man whose daughter loved iCarly told the group, "I think she'd be perfect for what we're trying to convey with our new line,"

"What is your new line?" Jim asked.

"It's a sort of 'Alice in Wonderland' meets 'Distressed industrial city' sort of look,"

"Sounds like it would be right up Sam's alley," Jim laughed. "Which set do you want to use first.

"We were thinking the balcony, "The creative lady pointed outside, "Since it looks like it might rain soon,"

"Great," Jim nodded, and then jumped and turned around as all of the workers looked at something behind him. Freddie craned his neck and gasped.

Sam walked smoothly and coolly out of the dressing room door, a small smile on her face. She was wearing a long, flowing halter dress made out of a white, sheath, silk material. It was asymmetrical, short on the left side, and then flowing down dramatically yet elegantly to the ground. Her hair was smooth and sleek , set to ripple over her right shoulder in a waterfall of gentle curls. Her eyelashes were long and dark, and her eyes were traced with black eyeliner than stretched beyond her eyes to create dramatic cat tails. A shimmering white eye shadow also decorated her delicate looking face and her lips were bright red.

"Okay," She started, "What set are we gonna use first?"

"We're going to heat out to the balcony," The lady pointed to the doorway.

"Great! "

As the group walked out of earshot, Freddie poked his head out from under the table. Sam was standing on the balcony, and the group of people dressed in black seemed to be instructing her. He looked quickly both ways beside him before he darted out from under his hiding place and ducked behind a column so that he was in earshot of Sam.

"And…begin," The man holding a huge camera pointed at Sam. Immediately, her posture suddenly changed she stood up straighter, her whole body seemed to elongate. Her neck seemed long and elegant, and she rested her arms behind her on the balcony's edge in a graceful, almost ethereal manner. Her eyes softened, and yet seemed to intensify, and he lips were parted slightly. She kept moving, her body flowing as she breathed slowly and rhythmically. Freddie was mesmerized by her very movements. She continued to pose for a few minutes until the rapid snapping of pictures died down, and the camera man looked at her, pondering something.

"What," Sam immediately asked, picking up that something was wrong.

"Well this shoot is supposed to be fun…" He asked shrewdly, "And you don't look like you're having the best time of your life,"

Sam sighed and bit her lip, before her eyes flashed mischievously and she looked over at one of the boxes resting by the entryway of the balcony.

"Can I try something different?" She asked. The Juicy Team all nodded, looking interested, and Sam hiked up her dress as to avoid stepping on it and trotted over to the box, grabbing a handful of something before running back.

"Okay, ready, Sammy?" The cameraman asked. She nodded and his camera resumed in its sporadic clicking. Sam threw her handfuls of silvery-blue sparkles into the air and twirled, a jubilant expression on her face as her eyes sparkled with a newfound happiness and wonder. Two of the Juicy Employees rushed over to the box and, upon returning, threw the sparkles into the air. The wind caught the constant flow of shimmering sparkles and Sam began her modeling again, this time looking more alive as she interacted with her new prop. She then glanced at the balcony with its wide railing, looked at it with ferocity, and stood up on it.

There were gasps from the crew as Sam modeled with increased intensity, perched fourteen stories above the busy Seattle street. To top it all off, she was wearing five inch hot pink pumps. Suddenly, there was a furious rumble from above. Sam hopped off of the railing and looked around with a look of mild apprehension on her face.

"Oh no, the storm must be here," Jim thought aloud. The Juicy Couture lady looked immediately at Sam.

"We'd better get you insi-"

As if on cue, there was another earsplitting crack of thunder, and large, heavy drops of rain began to fall upon the group.

"Here, hurry," Jim started, moving to get everyone to go back inside, but the main Lady held him back

"Wait," She commanded, before looking at Sam, "Keep going,".

Sam looked at her in confusion before she began to model again, this time in the rain. She twirled and spun and laughed, and Freddie was completely transfixed by her beauty.

"And…good!"The cameraman yelled above the downpour, pointing his finger at Sam before dragging his eye away from the camera lens. "That was awesome. That should definitely take care of at least a few pictures for our adds,"

"Let's head inside," Jim announced, chuckling at Sam. She hurried inside and out of the chilly rain. Freddie ducked down and ran back to his original hiding spot as the group stopped in front of him. Sam's hair was many shades darker from the water, and they were almost completely straight from being lagged down. The silk gown was no longer flowing, but instead it clung tightly to her curves.

"Well, I'd say that was definitely a success," The Lady told Sam, laughing slightly to herself.

"Do you want Sam to get changed for the next set shoot?" Jim asked.

"I think we should just wait until the shoot next week," The Lady laughed, pinching a strand of Sam's soaked hair between her fingers. "At this rate, Sam's going to get sick if she stays in her soaked clothes for too long,"

"Next week?" Sam jumped, a smile spreading slowly across her face.

"Yes," She smiled too, "We've all agreed that you'll be perfect for our new line. Do you think that you'd be willing to film a commercial for us this Monday after your get out of school?"

Sam's small smile turned into a full blown grin. "Yes! That would be totally rad!"

"Well, we'll see you then!" The Lady waved as she and her employees left. The second the door closed, Sam screamed in delight and began jumping up and down in excitement while Jim laughed.

"I thought you'd be pleased," He smiled. "I have to go deal with a client, but I'll see you on Monday,"

"See ya, Jim," She waved. Freddie's eyes widened. It was just him and Sam now. Sam sighed, the ghost of a smile still on her face as she realized how late it was. She was already dreading how angry her mom was going to be by the time she got changed, put her clothes away, caught a bus for the long ride, and got home. She sneezed suddenly, and her face reflected confusion, tiredness, and frustration. Something told her that she was getting sick. She groaned and headed towards the dressing room. The second that the dressing room door shut, Freddie leapt up from his hiding spot and ran out of the room, slamming the door quickly behind him. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Sam's a…model?" He whispered to himself. He needed to ask Sam about this, and fast.

*Whispering to self* Please let them like it, Puh-lease let them like it, PUH-LEAAASE!

Review….review….do it….


	4. Chapter 4

**AAAHHHH HEY! Okay, so sorry that I took a while to update, but I've been on vacation and I'm sick…at the same time. Awesomesauce. Also, thanks everyone and anyone who reviewed! You guys are the textbook definition of ****awesome.**** Anyyyywaaayyys here is Ze Fourth Chapter! It's shorter than I would have liked, and it is a bit of a filler, so if you hate it, don't form an angry mob and come at me with pitchforks, okay? Cool. ON WITH THE STORY!**

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When Sam arrived at her house at ten o'clock that night, she was had a killer headache, and all she wanted to do was collapse in her bed and sleep. She also intended to do just that, maybe after she got some food. Then again, her stomach was feeling a little queasy. Food would have to wait. _If only Freddie could see me now, giving up food voluntarily, _Sam thought with a bemused smile as she opened her front door, which was already unlocked. Her mom was too lazy to care about protection, of course.

At first she made no effort to keep her footsteps down; Mom and Harold were probably at a bar somewhere, like usual, but she froze a moment later when she heard loud voices coming from her mom's room. Sam tip toed over to her the doorway of her mom's bedroom, and was slightly surprised when she saw that it was open slightly, so she peered through the opening to see what was going on.

"Harold," Her mother started in a slightly apologetic voice, which struck Sam as odd, "It's not that I don't want to be with you, but I can't stay out at bars till four in the morning every single night! I have to come home and take care of Sam,"

"Like hell you do," Harold, a tall, muscled man with dark tan skin and dark, beady eyes growled, "You haven't given a damn about her until now. Suddenly you wanna take care of her and all this crap? I thought you didn't care about her,"

"Of course I care about her, sweetie," Her mom crooned in a soothing tone, "She's my daughter,"

"Well you haven't acted like you care about her," He mumbled, taking a swig of his beer.

Pam sighed bitterly, looking away with misty eyes, "I know. And that girl has seen me in conditions far worse than I ever wanted her to see me in. Just yesterday I was drinking and I said a bunch of crap to her; I can't remember half of it, but I do remember comparing her to Melanie and saying all these awful things to her. She acts more like a parent to me than I do to her, and that needs to change."

"I didn't realize sleeping with you had additional costs than the original fee," Harold spat, taking a threatening step towards Pam. Sam tensed, and her hands involuntarily balled into tight fists by her sides.

"Harold," Her mom whimpered, "You understand, right? I just need to make sure that she gets home alright. We don't need child services knocking at our door. And it would be nice for her to see my face in daylight, sometime when she's not at that Agency,"

"I'm 'fraid I definitely do not understand," Harold growled again, "And I need to get my point across. I am paying you good money, and I don't want to waste it on you while you're busy playing mom. You should be focused on me, not that little slut,"

Pam's eyes narrowed, "Don't you dare call her that ever again," She hissed furiously.

"Don't tell me what to do, you little bitch!" He roared, raising his arm. With unbelievable force, he brought his hand down against her cheek, and the slap echoed across the room. Sam's eyes widened and a loud gasp escaped her lips. At once, both Pam and Harold's glared darted to the doorway, and turned to looks of shock when they saw Sam standing there.

"Sammy…" Her mom breathed, fear and pain in her voice. Her eyes were watering, and a red mark was already obvious on her pretty, if not slightly wrinkled, skin.

"What the hell do you think you're doin," Harold snarled at Sam, who gulped.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my mom!" She snarled back. His eyes widened, and Pam looked at her in fear.

"Sam, don't, Harold and I were just having a little disagreement,"

"Like hell you were," Sam muttered angrily, still glaring at Harold. He suddenly roared angrily and stormed towards her, yanking her by the shoulder and slamming her up against the wall outside of the bedroom. Sam winced as her back slammed painfully against the hard plaster, and vaguely she wondered if she would have a bruise the next morning.

"You listen here, you little whore," Harold growled, "If you know what's good for you, you'll go upstairs and forget what just happened. If not," He looked her up and down and smiled sickeningly, and then examined the hand that he had just slapped Pam with, "Well, you can have some of what slut of a mother just got,"

He sneered again and walked calmly into the bedroom. A moment later, Pam stuck her head out of the door.

"Mom-" Sam started, but her mother shushed her.

"Not now," Her voice was quiet, "I need you to go to bed, and forget what just happened. Don't worry about anything, it's all going to be okay,"

"But-"

"Sam," Her mother started again in a testy voice, "Just relax, I promise everything will be fine,"

Her head retreated back into the room and the door shut. Sam stood, leaning against the wall for a moment, hugging herself around the middle as she stared blindly into the dark, dingy kitchen. Then she shook her head and practically flew upstairs, still sopping from her photo shoot. However, she wasn't quite as preoccupied as she had been about getting sick. She had new things to worry about. She ripped of her wet clothes (she had gotten soaked when trying to catch a bus back to her house) and changed into her warm PJ's before collapsing into bed. She switched off the light and laid on curled on her side, facing the window that was still being splattered with rain. She squeezed her eyes together so tightly that she began to see stars, but at least no tears threatened to spill when she opened them again.

Harold. That jerk Harold was abusing her mother. Sam shuddered, he had threatened to abuse her as well. She didn't have the faintest idea what to do. She hated the idea that someone could control her, but now she wasn't angry, she was…afraid. Even admitting it to herself made her sick, but in her heart she knew that it was true. Who could she tell? Carly? Spencer? Freddie? No, she decided, Carly and Freddie. She could tell them. Maybe Carly would let her crash at her apartment so that she could get away from that psycho freak, Harold. Things were starting to get complicated.

When she had entered the apartment, she had been downright exhausted; physically drained. All she had wanted to do was get to her bed so that she could sleep. Now, staring at the cracked wall in front of her, the thought of sleep seemed like a foreign concept.

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_You have to tell Carly. _

Sam walked through the hallway, headed to her locker with her eyes wide. She hadn't been able to focus all day, not like she usually paid attention to her classes. The point was, she didn't even have the vigor to act indifferent and sarcastic. She couldn't stop replaying the events of last night over and over in her mind. The echoing sound of Harold's hand smashing against her mother's cheek still rings in her mind.

_You have to tell Carly. _

Sam sniffed, trying to keep her nose from running. Her head was swimming, and her headache had yet to subside. She coughed weakly, trying not to pass out. _Those pictures better be the best damn pictures Juicy's ever seen, _she thought bitterly, remembering twirling ecstatically in the rain.

"Hey Sam," Wendy's voice came from behind her. Sam groaned to herself but turned around nonetheless.

"Sup, Wendy," She moaned. Wendy's eyes turned from excited to shocked.

"What's wrong?" She asked, "You look really sick!"

"Yeah, no chizz," Sam replied, blowing her nose in her Kleenex, making Wendy wince.

"What happened?"

"I got caught out in the rain," Sam lied easily.

"Oh, that sucks," Wendy cooed, "Well, I was just wondering if anyone had asked you to the Halloween Dance yet?"

"What Dance?" Sam asked. Wendy looked at her in complete and utter shock, but before she could speak, a look of recognition came over Sam's pale face, "Oh yeah, the dance. Uh…no. Even if someone had asked me, I don't know if I'd go,"

"Why!"

"Eh, dances aren't really my 'thing'" Sam put air quotes around 'thing'.

"Oh come on, you have to go!" Wendy gushed, "It's going to be _so _much fun," She drew out the 'o' in 'so', "Besides, I've already figured out the perfect person you should go with!"

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, trying to keep from looking too interested, "Who?"

"Isn't it obvious!" Wendy laughed, "Freddie!"

Sam coughed violently, her head swimming with shock. Once her coughing fit subsided, she looked at Wendy with wide eyes, "Are you insane?"

"No…" Wendy looked at Sam in slight confusion. _I knew she'd act this way. Sam would never actually admit to liking someone. _"I just thought it was obvious. I mean, you two are best friends after all,"

"You have officially lost your mind," Sam rolled her eyes, still breathing heavily, "If you honestly think that I'd go to a dance with The King Nub of Nub-land, you are seriously disturbed. And best friends? Try best _enemies. _Besides, he's in love with Carly," Sam waved her hand nonchalantly, but on the inside her heart was racing, and her face felt hotter than usual.

"Whatever you want to tell yourself Sam. If you want to lie to yourself, I'm not going to stop you," Wendy smirked knowingly, starting back down the hall, "Oh, and just to let you know, Freddie got over Carly _a long _time ago. He told me himself," She grinned again before waving at Sam and skipping away. Sam leaned against the nearby wall of lockers. _What the chizz just happened. _

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Freddie sat on his bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He was completely motionless, except for the rapid tapping of his foot. He looked again at the clock; Sam had told Carly that she had been told to stay after school by Principle Franklin, and she was supposed to be arriving at Carly's in the next five minutes. Freddie knew that she was actually at the commercial shoot for Juicy Couture, and that she had missed last period to be there, but Carly didn't know that. Freddie bit his lip. He was going to confront her, he told himself, and tell her that he knew about the modeling and acting thing. But the only problem was, he was terrified that Sam was going to beat him to a pulp once he told her that he knew.

His eyes found the alarm clock again and then moved to his nightstand where one of his pictures was laying facedown. He picked up the picture and studied it again, keeping his newfound information in mind. Now that he examined the picture again, he noticed the subtle changes in how photogenic she was. While Freddie simply smiled into the camera, Sam angled her body slightly, tilted her head to the right, and flashed a bright smile at the lens. Her eyes were wide, but not too wide. He should have realized the changes in her appearance when she first started wearing makeup.

A sudden coughing coming from the hallway caused him to jump up and race to the hallway. He threw the door open and saw Sam jump at the sudden movement. She stared at him for a miniscule moment with unmasked shock on her face before it was replaced with a look of familiar annoyance.

"Gosh, Fredache, next time try to give me a full blown heart attack, why don't you,"

"I need to talk to you," Freddie ignored her humour and grabbed her jacket sleeve, pulling her into his apartment. Sam looked at him with confusion.

"What's going on?" She asked, more wary than curious. Freddie sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Don't kill me…" He started, "But…okay, so Carly and I have noticed that you've been acting weird lately and you've seemed really tired and when you wouldn't tell us what was wrong I decided that we needed to find out because Carly and I were both worried that it was something with your mom or something and so yesterday when you got pulled out of class I followed you to Seattle Model and Talent, saw you do that photo shoot, and I know you're a model,"

Freddie inhaled sharply, preparing to be punched at the very least, but all he heard was a tired sigh. He opened his eyes to see Sam staring at her hands while she kicked at his carpet with her ratty converses.

"You're not gonna kill me?" He asked hopefully.

"No…not yet," Sam smirked weakly, "I just…God, Freddie, why in the world did you do that?"

"Uh…because you were keeping a secret from not only Carly but me. Why didn't you tell anyone? It's really cool that you model and act and sing and stuff!"

"Because the last thing I need in my life is to be judged and compared to people," Sam muttered quietly. Freddie took a cautious half step towards her.

"What do you mean?"

Another sigh. "Growing up, I guess I was just always compared to people. First Melanie, then Carly, and if I told anyone about the modeling thing, I would just be judged more and more. People would want to be my friends, guys would want to date me, but it would all be fake,"

"How do you know that?" Freddie asked, taking another cautious step towards her. The fact that she didn't move was both a good sign and a bad one.

"Because no one wants to hang out with an abrasive, sarcastic, rude tom boy like me, but everyone wants to hang out with someone who's famous. And guys don't want to date someone like me, but they want a supermodel."

"That's not true," Freddie told her in a sincere voice, but she shook her head.

"Oh yeah?" Sam raised an eyebrow testily, "Would you rather be able to say, 'I dated Sam Puckett, the model' or 'I dated plain ole' Sam Puckett,"

"Well since you're asking me," Freddie looked her in the eyes, "I'd take plain ole' Sam Puckett any day,"

Sam stared back at him for a moment, her eyes searching his desperately as if trying to tell if he was lying or not. "Well, as kind as that sounds, Fredward, we have bigger problems to deal with,"

"Like?"

"You have to swear that you won't tell _anyone, _not even Carly, about the modeling thing, okay?"

"But Carly-"

"Do you want to live to graduate!"

"Fine," Freddie agreed grudgingly, "But on one condition. You have to at least tell Carly about the modeling by the end of the month, okay?"

"Are you really trying to bargain with me, Bens-"

"-Sam!"

"Fine, deal, whatever," Sam rolled her eyes before she sneezed violently and stumbled dizzily.

"Whoa," Freddie gasped, grabbing Sam's shoulders to steady her, "Are you okay?"

"No," Sam groaned, "I feel like crap,"

"Dancing in the rain in five inch heels will do that to a person," Freddie smirked as he led Sam to Carly's.

"Hey, anything for the perfect shot," Sam smiled slightly before opening the Shay's door.

"Sam!" Carly cried, rushing towards her, "Oh my gosh, are you okay? Wendy said that you were really, really sick and when you didn't get here on time I thought something happened to you!" Carly paused, looking at Sam in curiosity. "Why is your hair pink and straightened?" She examined Sam's hair, which was indeed straightened and streaked with a light pink color, but when Sam coughed, Carly ignored it.

"Relax Carls I'm fi-fi-ACHOO!" She was interrupted the her own sneeze and she groaned, putting a hand to her head. "Okay, maybe I'm not so fine,"

"Here, sit down and relax," Carly forced her to the couch, "I'll go make you some soup and we can watch Girly Cow,"

"Sounds…great," Sam smiled, pulling the thick blanket that Carly had just handed her around her shoulders. Freddie sat down next to her and noticed with amazement how beautiful she was even when she had the flu.

"Here ya go," Carly handed Sam a bowl of steaming hot chicken noodle soup a moment later, which Sam gratefully held between her hands.

"Th-Th-ACHOO! Thanks, Carls," Sam smiled weakly before slurping some of the hot broth. Carly collapsed on the armchair next to the couch and grabbed the remote from the side table. She switched it to a marathon of Girly Cow, and the three watched for a while in silence that was only broken when they laughed at something funny, or Sam sneezed or coughed. After a particularly vicious coughing fit, Carly looked at her in surprise.

"How did you get so sick anyways?" She asked. Freddie's eyes darted to Sam, and she glanced at him briefly before turning back to Carly.

"I got caught walking home in the rain and my mom had locked the door but taken the only spare key we had, so I was stuck outside," Sam lied expertly.

"That horrible!" Carly gasped, "Well that's it, you have to stay here at least for tonight. I don't trust you or your mother to take care of you when you're sick,"

"But Carls-"

"No buts, you are staying on this couch and you are going to stay on this couch and eat all of the food that I feed you,"

Sam smirked even through her illness, "Well, if you're forcing me…"

Freddie laughed loudly and Carly looked perplexed before her shocked expression turned to a grin and she too laughed. They were all distracted, however, when music suddenly came from the TV.

The commercial started out with a girl with pink hair that had little gemstones sparkling in it lying in a boat that was hanging over a huge pool. Chains of sparkles and flowers were draped across the boat and its sail, and various objects like flowers and sequined orbs were on the boat. At first you couldn't see her face because she was wearing a large sun hat and an extravagant sparkly dress.

"I've never seen this commercial before," Carly mused, "But I love Juicy Couture,"

Freddie looked at Sam in shock, but she stared at the TV with her eyes wide. _No way…_she thought. It was her commercial.

Suddenly, the camera zoomed in on the girl's face as she smelled a bouquet of flowers. Carly gasped, as did Freddie. It was obviously Sam, but Sam with makeup was astonishing. Carly looked at Sam, and then back at the TV screen. The girl, Sam, was throwing things into the water. First she threw more flowers, and then the camera zoomed back to show Sam throwing boys and scarves. It zoomed in on her face, which was filled with jubilation as she tossed handfuls of silver and gold sparkles. You could hear her wind chime laughter as the camera zoomed in on her, biting her knuckle playfully before she ripped on the hat and twirled out of her dress, letting a long, flowing curtain of pink and blonde hair flow around her, and revealing a second outfit comprised of a sparkling sky blue strapless top and shorts. Sam laughed again and tossed a handful of jewelry into the water. The next shot showed her opening a pink fan, and the next of her sitting on the edge of the boat, tossing the sequined orbs into the pool, which now appeared as a tropical waterfall with sun shining upon it. Sam was now lying in the boat, laughing happily while playing with the tan fedora on her head.

There was a close up of her fingers pressed firmly against the chest of a tattooed man, who was very muscled and tough looking. Freddie felt a pang of jealously, but ignored it as he watched Sam push him into the water, and then there was a close up of her trademark smirk. As they man crashed into the water, along with the rest of the sparkling, intriguing items that now swirled in the waterfall's lake, the camera zoomed far back to show Sam standing on the boats edge, still floating above the water, holding onto one of the sail's ropes as she stared with a mixture of wonder and ecstasy while rosy pink, dark red, yellow, and cream balloons rained down around her. They flew across the huge lake and down the waterfall. The shot switched to showing a bottle of perfume, with the background of a tropical lake with the waterfall still behind it. Sam's voice floated across the music.

_"Couture, Couture. A fragrance by Juicy Couture," _

The commercial ended and Girly Cow came back on, but they all ignored it. Sam had her knees pulled up to her chest, and her eyes were barely peeking out. Freddie was looking first at Sam, then at Carly, then at the TV, and back at Sam. Carly was frozen, her mouth slightly agape and her face radiating complete and total shock.

"Oh. My. God." She finally managed to speak, her voice coming out in a slow whisper. At once, she turned to Sam, her eyes flashing, "Sam! You have got some serious explaining to do!"

"Carls-"

"Oh don't you Carls me!" She cried, throwing her hands up in frustration, "I just saw you in a commercial, a freakin' _Juicy Couture commercial! _And all you can say it 'Carls'! What's going on here, hmm? I knew something was going on, and I was right! So explain,"

Sam sighed, her cheeks growing red. Sam never blushed, so Carly and Freddie were caught by surprise.

"Fine…" She muttered, and then the story came flooding out, "Okay, so you remember how I used to do pageants when I was a little kid? Well I also used to model, and I used to do commercials. I worked for Seattle Model and Talent and I was really big until I was about eleven where I put my career on hold for a little bit and my agent, Jim, called me again a year ago and asked me if I was still interested in modeling, and acting, and singing and I said that I was and he started representing me again and since then I've been doing modeling campaigns, and commercials, and we're trying to get a music career going and I didn't want anyone to know because I thought that they'd compare me and judge me and it would be like Melanie all over again so I didn't tell anyone and I feel really bad and please don't hate me…!"

Sam stopped after her frantic rant, breathing heavily. Carly's expression had gone from angry to shocked in less than a minute, and she didn't say anything.

"Carly…?" Freddie started apprehensively. Suddenly Carly squealed loudly, a smile beaming on her face.

"Holy Chizz!" Sam gasped, "She's finally gone crazy,"

"Sam this is great!" Carly finally exclaimed.

"What?" Sam and Freddie gasped simultaneously, looking at each other in surprise.

"Carly, did you hear everything I just said?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Yes, and it's magnificent!"

"She's lost it," Sam muttered to Freddie.

"No I haven't!" Carly insisted, "Why would I be upset? This is totally awesome! I mean, you're on TV! In a commercial for Juicy Couture! I always told you that you were gorgeous, and now you _have _to believe me! And acting? That last time I saw you act was in the fifth grade school play, which was mandatory. And singing? Argh! I'm so excited!"

She squealed again and squeezed Sam tightly. Sam looked shocked.

"You're…not mad?"

"No…" Carly muttered, "I mean, I'm kinda upset that you didn't tell me, but…"

"I'm really sorry, Carls," Sam gushed uncharacteristically, "I was just…I don't know, worried. Yeah, I was worried that you would think I was selfish or conceited for something. And that you would treat me differently." She sighed, "I guess I didn't want to be judged differently,"

"Aww, Sam!" Carly cooed, "I promise this won't make me treat you any differently, but I do think that it's great that you're doing this," She paused and then gasped, "Oh my gosh, that was why you've been so exhausted lately!"

"Yeah," Sam admitted defeat, "This week the earliest I've gotten back to my house was midnight, and the latest was three in the morning,"

"You poor thing you must be exhausted!" Carly gushed in her typical, nurturing way, "Well you can sleep here, and I'll have you feeling better in no time!"

"Thanks, Carls," Sam smiled tiredly, her head swimming slightly. Carly must have noticed her tiredness, for she stood up quickly.

"It's getting kinda late. Freddie, your mom will probably want you home soon,"

"But-" Freddie started to protest, but Carly cut him off with a glare. He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Fine…" Freddie groaned, standing up grudgingly. He smiled at Carly and Sam.

"I bid you a due, Ladies," He smirked, then devoting a particularly amused smirk to Sam, "Feel better, Princess Puckett," He winked, rather uncharacteristic of him, and exited. Carly and Sam watched him go, identical looked of shock and confusion on their faces.

"What was that about?" Carly asked as soon as the door was closed.

"No idea," Sam mumbled, her head cocked to the side. "Oh well, that nubs as strange as they come,"

Carly looked at her with a dubious, yet knowing look. "Whatever you say." She then smiled again, "Oh my gosh, this is so cool! I can't believe that you're gonna be all famous and such,"

"I'm not gonna be famous, Carls, it was one commercial," Sam told her patiently.

"That everyone's gonna see,"

"They won't air it during the day or on any major channels for a while. Chances are most people aren't gonna see it for a while," Sam told her.

"Look at you, all knowledgeable about the Entertainment business," Carly smiled jokingly. Sam rolled her eyes, and Carly noticed that there was still a small frown on her face. "You're not still worried about being judged or anything, right?"

"That's not it," Sam sighed, shaking her head sadly, "Carls, I have to tell you something,"

Carly knew immediately that Sam was extremely serious and sat up a bit straighter.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" Carly pressed. Sam sighed bitterly.

"Do you remember that guy I told you my mom's dating? Harold?"

"The doctor?" Carly asked.

"Yeah, him. Well I got back to my house yesterday and he and my mom were fighting. Things were getting pretty bad and…" Sam sighed again and looked at Carly with wide, searching eyes, "He hit her. He hit my mom,"

Carly's hands flew to her mouth and she shook her head in incredulous belief, "Oh my-"

"Yeah, I know, and that's not the worst of it. They both saw me watching what had happened and Harold grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. My back's all bruised up because of it. Well, he threatened me, he told me that if I ever brought it up or told the cops, he'd…he'd hurt me,"

Sam could feel a strange sensation flooding her. Her throat had suddenly grown tight, her hands were shaking, and her vision had gone slightly blurry. Was she about to…cry? No, Sam Puckett didn't, doesn't, cry.

Carly's expression, meanwhile, had gone from shocked to absolutely horrified.

"Oh my God, Sam, that's awful!" She cried, her eyes swimming, "I'm so, _so, _sorry!" She pulled Sam into a tight hug, and rubbed her hand on her back in small, soothing circles when she felt Sam tuck her head against Carly's shoulder in an effort to stop any tears that might threaten to fall.

"Carls, what am I gonna do!" Sam asked desperately. Carly knew that Sam was terrified because, under any other circumstances, she would never, ever as Carly, or anyone, for help.

"Well, you sure as hell aren't going to go back to your house with that _creep _still living there!" Carly cried, startling Sam when she cussed. "You…You'll stay here!" She stated firmly, looking intent. Sam's eyes widened.

"But, I couldn't, Carls. You and Spence already let me crash here too much. I mean, I'm kinda a handful and-"

"Sam," Carly started in a warning tone, "You are staying here, and I don't care what you say, I will handcuff you to this couch and force feed you if I have to!"

"Okay, are you trying to take care of me or kidnap me?" Sam asked, and the two girls laughed.

"We can talk about this tomorrow. I'm exhausted," Carly sighed. "Here, you can just come borrow some of my clothes,". The two girls hurried and changed into PJ's and returned downstairs, where Carly settled into the armchair and Sam stretched out on the couch. Carly switched off the lamp next to her and the rest of the room was cast into darkness, only lit by the sporadic glowing of Girly Cow. Sam stared at the TV, clutching her blanket to her chest in a comforting way. She felt much better now that both Carly and Freddie knew her secret, but what would happen if everyone else found out about her secret? Would they ridicule her and think that she was conceited? Sam sighed, shoving the worrisome thoughts to the back of her mind when something else nagged her.

"Hey Carls?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I should tell Freddie? About Harold?"

"Yes," Carly answered immediately, "You should,"

"Why?"

"He's your best friend too, and he has a right to know."

The two grew quiet for a moment until Carly piped up again.

"He worries about you, ya know,"

"Yeah…I do…I guess I should probably be thankful about that or whatever. One more thing Carls,"

"Yeah?"

"What should we do about my mom?"

For a moment Carly remained silent as she pondered the question. "Hmm…I don't know. We can ask Spencer and tomorrow. He did go to Law School, after all,"

"Yeah," Sam replied, the ghost of a laugh in her voice, "I know he did,"

"Well, Goodnight Sam,"

"Goodnight, Carls…and thanks,"

"For what?"

"For being my best friend."

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**Awww, Sam and Carly friendship moment. I just wanted to define that Sam and Carly are indeed best friends because I feel that even though Freddie and Sam are **_**obviously best friends and true loves and all that Seddie goodness, **_**Sam needs Carly. **

**Good? Bad? Terrible? Terrible enough to not review? Hopefully not…because reviews are very, very, **_**very, **_**good! Thanks for reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

**THANK YOU MY SUPERMEGAFOXYAWESOMEHOT READERS/REVIEWERS! Okay, so this chapter is complete and utter fluff (with some deep plot related stuff in between). I guess this is what happens when you're in an abnormally frilly girly fairy princess mood and you decide to fanfiction it up. Aww well…oh, and I'm trying not to post obsessively about iLMM (*types the following sentence and rushes to the YouTube page where she still had the promos open and watches them, squealing while doing so*). Anyways, her we goooooo! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly…I do own dinosaur shaped gummies. Does that count?**

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Carly Shay had seen Freddie Benson in plenty of different moods: happy, sad, worried, surprised, everything. He was the type of guy who you could read like a book; He didn't hide anything. However, even though she had seen him even in his worst moments, she had never seen him really mad in a long time…until now.

"He. Did. WHAT!" Freddie shouted again. Carly winced, her eyes darting up towards her room, where Sam was sleeping.

"I told you, he-"

"I'M GONNA KILL THAT ASSHOLE!" Freddie yelled again, kicking the ground angrily. "HOW DARE HE TOUCH SAM! SAM! MY SAM! AND-"

"Wait, _your _Sam?" Carly raised an eyebrow. Freddie's face immediately flushed scarlet, but he ignored her.

"What are we gonna do?" Freddie asked desperately, his voice finally residing from a yell to a desperate moan.

"Well, I talked to Spencer about it and he says she can just stay at our place,"

"She's gonna have to go back to her house sometime," Freddie reminded Carly.

"Yeah, and we can make sure that that creep is gone when we take her there," Carly nodded fervently.

"What about her mom?" Freddie asked.

"Spencer suggested that we should let Sam talk to her mom," Carly explained, "That way they can work it out together."

"I guess so," He mumbled, before groaning, "Ugh, I can't believe that this is actually happening,"

"I know," Carly replied with sympathy, "What's even weirder is that Sam actually told me about it. I mean, Sam never tells _anyone _about personal stuff."

"Why's that?" Freddie asked.

"She just doesn't…let people in easily. Sam is the kind of girl who builds walls up around her and she keeps people out. She doesn't let her emotions show through because she feels like people are gonna hurt her and take advantage of her, and she sees that as a sign of weakness. She just doesn't…trust people,"

"Yeah, she mentioned that," Freddie mulled. Carly looked at him and cocked her head.

"When?"

"A while ago," Freddie answered vaguely, looking away, blushing.

"Freddie," Carly raised an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, fine. We were just talking because I asked her about why she was acting really weirdly, and she let slip that she doesn't trust people very easily,"

"That's so weird," Carly murmured, "She never tells people anything. What else did you talk about?"

"You know, friendship, how she was feeling, her dad-"

Carly suddenly gasped, eyes wide. "She told you about _her dad!" _

"No…" Freddie started, looking apprehensive, "She just mentioned him, said that she couldn't tell me about him then. Why is that a big deal?"

"Uh…yeah!" Carly exclaimed, "_I _don't even know what happened with Sam's dad,"

"Wow…" Freddie whistled, eyebrows raised. "That's…"

The two lapsed into silence, unable to find an adjective to properly describe Sam. They both looked up suddenly, however, when Sam appeared.

"What's Frednub doing here?" Sam asked, her voice less scratchy than the day before, but her eyes more tired looking, and her face ghostly pale.

"Um…"Carly and Freddie glanced at each other, "He's here to take care of you. Spencer and I have to go to Yakima today to visit my Granddad,"

"What?" Sam demanded weakly, and Freddie knew that if she wasn't so sick she would be shouting, "Puh-lease tell me you're not serious. I'm a big girl, I don't need someone breathing over my shoulder making sure I don't stare at the sun for too long,"

"A: It's raining," Carly pointed out the window at the grey tinted world and the rain lashing the window, "B: You're sick. Freddie's just gonna stay and hang out with you. Actually it was his idea," Carly mused. Sam looked at Freddie, half shocked, half perplexed and Freddie blushed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"So you're gonna leave me alone with this nub all day?" Sam grumbled, sinking down next to Freddie.

"I find that insulting," Freddie shot back.

"I find your face insulting," Sam retorted without a second thought.

"You'll be fine, Sam," Carly sighed patiently, standing up. "SPENCER! YOU READY?"

"COMING, LIL SIS!" Spencer yelled back from his room. A moment later he appeared, lugging two suitcases. Carly stood up and grabbed her suitcases too, which were resting casually by the front door. As they were walking out of the front door, Carly looked back at the two pointedly.

"Don't burn anything, don't lose the spare key, oh, and don't kill each other,"

"NO PROMISES!" Sam yelled as the door slammed shut. Silence pressed upon the room, yet the rushing of the rain whipping against the windows seemed deafening. Freddie and Sam both turned their heads slowly away from the door and their eyes met. For a moment they were both silent as they stared at each other until Sam broke the silence,

"God, are you gonna get me some food or not, nub?"

Freddie smirked as he pushed himself off of the couch and headed to the kitchen. Upon opening the refrigerator, he scanned the different food and thought about what to give Sam. He saw Bisquick pancake mix and chocolate chips and immediately knew what to make.

Thirty minutes later, he carried two plates over to the couch, where Sam was lounging on the couch flipping through TV channels. Freddie places the tall stack of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her, along with a glass of orange juice. Her eyes widened at the smell of food and she practically jumped at the plate of pancakes.

"Fredloon, did you cook these yourself?" Sam asked through a mouthful of gooey pancakes.

"Yup," He nodded, "Does the infamous Sam Puckett approve of my cooking?"

"Mmm" Sam mumbled an intangible answer and the two lapsed back into a comfortable silence. After they finished watching Girly Cow, Freddie hooked up his laptop to the large TV.

"You wanna watch some iCarly's?" Freddie asked.

"Sure," Sam sighed. They watched the first dozen episodes that the three had ever produced, and by the end, Sam and Freddie were in tears from laughing so hard.

"Oh my gosh, that was hilarious!" Sam cackled.

"We were so young," Freddie mused.

"Your voice was so high," Sam smirked devilishly.

"You were so short," Freddie retorted, "Looks like not much has changed in _that _department,"

"You gotta death wish, Frederly?" Sam shot, eyes narrowed, but Freddie simply rolled his eyes.

"Let's check out the latest episode," He decided, turning on the most recent iCarly.

"Whatevs," Sam rolled her eyes, now chewing on some bacon that Freddie had cooked earlier. Freddie put on the latest iCarly video. Freddie noticed that as Sam imitated the stuck up model character that she was playing in their skit, her eyes looked sad. He had noticed it during the show as well, but now it all made sense. He tried to rip his eyes away from Sam and his eyes focused on something in the background.

"What's that?" He asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. Sam looked up curiously from her last piece of bacon.

"What's what?"

Freddie paused the video and walked up to the TV, pointing to what appeared to be the neck of a guitar in the shot that was focused on Sam and Carly's faces. Sam's eyes widened with recognition and she looked more awake that she had the whole day.

"Oh," She jumped up, walking over to the TV with her arms folded. "That's just my guitar," Freddie choked on his orange juice, causing Sam to look at him in shock. "What's wrong with you?"

"You keep your guitar _here_?"

"Uh, yeah," She nodded, trying to stop the blush from creeping up her cheeks, "What's the big deal?"

Freddie looked at her with wide, wild eyes. "Is it still here?"

"Uh…" Sam looked at him, perplexed," Yeah…"

Before she could finish her sentence, Freddie was bounding up the stairs towards the studio, and Sam, not knowing what was going on, followed him, running as fast as she could without making her head spin more than it already was.

She found Freddie standing in the studio, staring intently at her guitar. It was resting against the wall under one of the studio's windows, it's cherry red surface glimmering even in the dull light. Freddie's face was a mixture of amazement and awe as he took slow, seemingly respectful steps towards the instruments.

"Is that…" He finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "A…Les Paul Junior SG?"

Sam looked at him in shock, the corners of her lips tugging up in an involuntary smile, "Yeah," She murmured, "How did you know that?"

Freddie looked at her, his face burning scarlet, and Sam gasped.

"No way…" She started, "You do not play guitar,"

"Since I was seven," He admitted with a shy shrug.

"Shut up," Sam breathed.

"Do you play acoustic too? Or just electric?"

"I play acoustic too," Sam explained, pointing to the other side of the studio where an acoustic guitar was also resting, "That's Bleecker, this is Cinder," Sam smiled slightly at the mention of her guitars' names.

"Sweet names," Freddie laughed. "I didn't know you kept your guitars here, I would have thought you'd keep them at your house,"

"And risk them being destroyed by my mom or her a-hole boyfriend?" Sam scoffed. Freddie cringed at the mention of Harold, but didn't say anything then, "Yeah right. Besides, they look cool here,"

"I never knew that they were yours," Freddie mused, "I guess I thought that they were just there for decoration,"

"Nope," Sam lifted Cinder and fastened the guitar strap around her shoulder, "These babies are one hundred percent Sam Puckett property…well, they were my dad's, so I guess that just makes them Puckett Property,"

Freddie's eyes darted to Sam at the mention of her father. "He gave them to you,"

"Yeah," Sam replied, her eyes downcast, but she jumped, looking at him with a sharp gaze that obviously said 'I know I said I'd tell you, but now is not the time'. "What do you play?" She asked, changing the subject.

"I love acoustic, but I always wanted to play electric. I had to beg my mom to get me one, so all I rock in Fender Squier Classic,"

"Solid," Sam nodded in a strangely understanding fashion. "Is it at your house?"

"Yeah, do you want me to run and get it?"

"You might as well," Sam smirked, "I wanna see the guitar that had to play victim to Fredward Benson's wannabe Rock Star ways,"

Freddie rolled his eyes before he noticed that Sam was shivering. "Are you cold?"

"N-No." She stuttered, but when he raised an eyebrow at her, she groaned , "Okay, yes, fine,"

"Here," He started, pulling off his Ridgway High sweatshirt and handing it to her, "You can wear this. I was getting hot anyways,"

Sam took the jacket in her hands, her heard pumping and her stomach doing summersaults. "Th-Thanks," She replied. _Get a hold of yourself _she thought bitterly as she watched Freddie walk away. She noticed as he was fumbling with the door of the studio that he was wearing what appeared to be a T-Shirt with the Moldy Peaches Logo on it. He left and she bit her lip. She was slowly realizing that there was much more to Freddie than she had originally thought. She had heard him mention some music that she liked, such as Green Day, Sum 41, Matt and Kim, Relient K, and Animal Collective.

She sighed, and then sneezed suddenly. "Ugh!" Sam groaned, heading over to sit in one of the bean bag chairs with Cinder still in her arms. She strummed a G chord and then brushed her fingers gently against the deep red, glossy surface. She sniffed and caught a whiff of some sweet smelling fragrance. It was a clean smell that resembled flowers after a rainstorm; it was sweet, but subtle, and it didn't resemble perfume. Sam immediately recognized it as the way that Freddie smelt. She wrapped her hands around the long sleeves and buried her face in her arms, inhaling deeply.

"Sam?"

Sam looked up quickly when she heard Freddie's voice echoing up the stairs. She sat up quickly and looked at the doorway as Freddie walked in, carrying his electric in one hand and his acoustic in the other.

"Wow," Sam muttered, more in awe of the fact that Freddie had played guitar for so long and she didn't even know about it. "Nice ones,"

"Thanks," Freddie grinned, putting the electric on the ground. "The acoustic was my dad's. He named it Kimberly, after his mom. "

"I see that we're both in the same boat regarding where out guitars' names came from," Sam mused.

"Yeah, I guess so." Freddie replied, trying desperately to not think about his dad. "Both of em are named after middle names," He tried to change the subject, and immediately regretted it.

"What's the other one's name?" Sam asked. Freddie blushed slightly.

"Uh, December," He muttered. Sam blushed too.

"Wow," She finally uttered.

"What?" He asked, though he knew clear well what.

"That's," She started, paused, and found the strength to keep speaking, "That's _my _middle name,"

"Yeah…" Freddie replied awkwardly.

"Why'd you choose my middle name for your guitar?" She asked, dumbfounded and flattered at the same time.

"It's one of my favorite names," He replied softly, "It's beautiful," _You're beautiful. _

Sam looked down awkwardly, a small smile on her face and blush still painting her cheeks. Freddie cleared his throat a changed the subject hastily.

"So you've played since you were five?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I was hiding under a table when you told the Juicy Couture people about it at the Agency," Freddie smirked.

"Oh yeah," Sam growled, "How could I forget that my _best friend _snuck out of school to stalk me for a day,"

"Well you didn't tell me anyth-wait, best friend?" Freddie asked, his heart beating wildly. Sam blushed a rosy scarlet colour and didn't answer.

"I picked up guitar pretty naturally. It's one of the only things I really enjoy that isn't illegal, right along with iCarly and bacon," Sam looked down thoughtfully and Freddie rolled his eyes, smiling.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, smirking, "You're that good of a guitar player and singer? Cause they're kind of a package deal"

"Yeah, I am that good. Do you doubt my talent?" Sam asked, eyes wide with shock and indignation.

"Well…" Freddie trailed off pointedly and Sam's eyes narrowed.

"What, Benson, you don't believe me?"

"I thought I made that kinda obvious,"

"You are just asking for it," Sam growled, "I am a fabulous guitar player. And a great singer while we're at it,"

"Oh yeah?" He handed her a guitar pick that weaved between the strings of her acoustic. "Prove it."

Sam's face paled even more that it already was. "Now?"

"Is that a problem for you?"

"N-No, of course not. Psh, it's the opposite of a problem," Sam waved her hand noncommittally, her hand shaking slightly. She couldn't do this in front of Freddie!

"Then play and sing something right now, or do you not have anything in your immediate repertoire?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I can play something. Do you know Landslide by Fleetwood Mac?"

"I don't live under a rock, ya know," Freddie reminded her.

"Could have fooled me," Sam mumbled, making Freddie scowl, but jokingly rather than seriously.

"Just play the song, Princess Puckett,"

"Fine, cool your jets," Sam sighed, adjusting the guitar around her neck and sitting up slightly straighter. She began to strum slowly, her fingers delicately gliding over the guitar strings and bending around the guitar's neck. Freddie watched her with increasing interest that soon turned to undeniable awe. Just as Freddie was getting over the initial shock of seeing Sam play, she opened her mouth and began to sing.

"I took my love, I took it down  
>Climbed a mountain and I turned around<br>And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills  
>Till the landslide brought me down"<p>

Freddie had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping to the ground. He used to think that Carly was a good singer, and she was, a great singer even, but Sam was an _amazing _singer. Her voice was crystal clear and sounded like chimes, but at the same time there was a quirky, indie lilt to it. He was mesmerized.

_"Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?_

_Can the child within my heart rise above?  
>Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?<br>Can I handle the seasons of my life?  
>Mmm, mmm, mmm"<em> 

Sam had closed her eyes as she sang, her voice ringing around the iCarly studio. She completely forget that Freddie was even there, and yet everything she was singing about was the truth, it was all for him.

_"Well, I've been afraid of changing  
>'Cause I've built my life around you<br>But time makes you bolder  
>Even children get older and I'm getting older too"<em>

It was so true. She was terrified to change, to tell everyone about her life and to admit that she liked-maybe even _loved-_Freddie.__

_"Well, I've been afraid of changing  
>'Cause I've built my life around you<br>But time makes you bolder  
>Even children get older and I'm getting older too<br>Oh, I'm getting older too_

_"Awh, take my love, take it down  
>Awh, climb a mountain and turn around<br>And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills  
>Well, the landslide bring it down"<em>

Suddenly, the rapid strumming slowed down, and became more soulful. __

_"And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills  
>Well, the landslide bring it down<br>Oh, the landslide bring it down"_

Sam and Freddie remained frozen as the last guitar chord echoed off into the room. Sam's eyes were still closed, and her hands were still stationary against the guitar. Then she let out a shuddering breath that she didn't know she had been holding and opened her eyes, which were misty. Freddie pretended not to notice, for her sake. She would hate it if he saw her in a moment of weakness.

"Wow…" He finally breathed, "Sam, that was…that was beautiful,"

Sam looked into his eyes, searching the deep brown orbs. "Really?" She whispered, her tone completely sincere. Freddie scooted closer to her and noticed that his sweatshirt had slipped down over her shoulder. He grabbed the fabric gently and pulled it back over her shoulder.

"I have never heard anyone with a voice like that," He whispered back in an equally genuine voice. She looked at him even more intensely before her eyes dropped.

"Thank you," She replied. It was one of the few times that Sam had said those two words to him.

_BOOM! _The thunder reverberated around the room, shaking the apartment building. Sam and Freddie both jumped up at the same time.

"Ah!" Freddie yelled.

"Shiii-!" Sam cursed, jumping to Freddie and nuzzling into his side. He put a comforting arm around her and they remained in their embrace for a moment. Sam had her face pressed into his chest as she breathed in his cologne. He was warm and she was extremely comfortable with Freddie's well toned arms around her.

Freddie held her close to him, his face nestled in her incredible silky hair. He inhaled deeply and caught a sweet aroma that resembled lavenders and sweet peas. She felt so small and vulnerable in his arms. She always had such a big persona that with her in his arms, she seemed to breakable and fragile, like he was seeing the girl beneath the mask .

_This is amazing, _Sam thought, _too bad he'll never actually like me…_

_ Wow, she's so great. I wish we could stay like this forever, _Freddie thought, _but she'll never think of me the way that I think of her. _

They both looked up at each other and their eyes met slowly. They continued looking at each other, unable to move. There was a sudden heated tension that filled the room, an almost electromagnetic force between the two that was drawing them together.

By the time Sam realized what was happening, she was standing on her toes, and her nose was barely two inches away from Freddie's. As much as she wanted to press her lips to his, she dropped back to flat feet and let out a shaky breath, tucking a loose strand of curly blonde-pink hair away from her eyes. Freddie was seemingly ripped out of his trace like state and he jumped back. The two stared at each other, wide eyed and unsure of how to handle the situation. Another rumble of thunder and a series of flashing lightning caused the distraction that they both desired.

"We'd better head downstairs," Freddie finally broke the tension, "You know, get downstairs and away from the storm,"

"We're on the eighth floor of an apartment building, I don't think we'd be much better off down or up," Sam grumbled, but led the way down the staircase and to the Shay's living room.

"So you do realize that I just might have to make you sing on iCarly," Freddie started, sitting at the bar while Sam leaned against it. She looked at him with a playful yet devious glare on her face.

"You do realize that because I am being represented by a Talent Agency I can reserve the right to have to sent to juvie if I claim that you are harassing me for my voice," She shot back triumphantly. Freddie gulped.

"Y-You do realize that you're kinda terrifying when you do that,"

Sam smirked even more victoriously, "You do realize that it is two o'clock and you still haven't fed me lunch,"

Freddie chuckled, "Grilled Cheese work?"

"Fine," Sam pretended to be frustrated, by they both knew how much she loved Grilled Cheese sandwiches.

"You know, you could help me,"

"But I'm sick," Sam replied in a wispy, pathetic voice. She then coughed meekly, making Freddie roll his eyes.

"I thought you were an actress," He smirked, "That was pathetic,"

Sam stared at him, her eyes widening before tears welled up at her eyelids. She wrapped her arms around her middle and her bottom lip trembled before she began to sob. Freddie gasped and started towards her.

"Sam, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. I'm sure you're a great actress and-"

He was interrupted, however, when Sam whipped her head up, her eyes fierce and a smile on her face as the tears stopped immediately. "How's that for acting, hmm?"

Freddie's jaw dropped. "B-But you were just…?"

"It's called fake crying, Frednub," She yawned, walked into the kitchen and hopping up onto the counter, "Now start cooking, Mama's hungry,"

Freddie shook himself mentally and headed into the kitchen where he pulled out a frying pan and got the bread, cheese, and butter from the Shay's refrigerator. After constructing the sandwiches, he through them on the pan and turned to face his blonde companion. "So…" He started.

"That's a scary tone," Sam replied, wide eyed.

Freddie sighed, pondering how to word his next sentence, "So Carly told me...about your mom and her boyfriend,"

Sam's eyes widened even more and Freddie saw that she seemed to shrink inside of herself, looking extremely fragile and delicate in his oversized sweatshirt with her legs dangling off of the counter. "She did…?"

"Yeah…" Freddie replied cautiously, "Sam, I'm-" He paused, "I'm really sorry. That totally sucks that you had to see that. And I can't believe he threatened you. If he ever does it again, I'll skittle his yard or egg him or-"

"You won't do anything," Sam cut him off with an icy tone. "I don't need your help. If Harold tries to pull anything, I can handle it.,"

"I wasn't implying that you couldn't-" Freddie tried to calm her, but it was no use. Sam slipped off of the counter and walked right up to him, glaring.

"I can take care of myself. It's always been that way,"

"But it doesn't have to be!" Freddie piped up more loudly, quieting Sam for a moment. "Look, I know that you're independent, and you say you don't need help, but that doesn't mean that you can't accept it and make your life a little easier."

"But-" Sam started desperately, yet Freddie continued.

"Carly and I just want to help you. I know that you think it makes you seem weak, I know that Sam because I know you, but it doesn't make you weak. Sometimes accepting help just shows that you're strong enough to put your guard down,"

"Welcome to wide words with Fredward Benson," Sam mumbled in a monotonously cheery tone.

"I'm serious," Freddie continued, "Just stay at Carly's for a while. I'm not saying that we're gonna go murder this asshole, even though I'd like to, but-"

"He's paying her, ya know," Sam suddenly told him in a small voice.

"What?"

"He's paying her to sleep with him," She continued without a trace of hesitation or embarrassment. She looked at Freddie meaningfully, "I know that she'd deny it, but it's happened before."

"What do you mean?"

"When she's really drunk at a bar, or walking home after doing shots with some idiots, sometimes some jerk trucker dude, or some stuck up business man who wants to let loose will pick her up and pay her. She'd have sex with them anyways, but we need all the money we can get," Sam closed her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them they were tear free, "I'm surprised something like this hasn't happened sooner."

"Sam…" Freddie started, "I…I don't know what to say,"

"Neither would I," She laughed humorlessly, "But if we wanna stop Harold, we have to get her to start getting help. I don't know, it sounds stupid, but,"

"No it's not," Freddie assured her, "I promise I'll help you-" He froze, realizing what he had just said, but when he looked at Sam warily, she was smirking.

"Here's the deal," She grinned at him, "I'm not saying I need you to go kill the guy, but I'd say skittle-ing(1) his yard wouldn't hurt,"

Freddie grinned back, "It's a deal,"

Suddenly, the grilled cheese sandwiches burst into flame. Freddie jumped up and grabbed the nearest dishtowel before smacking the flames with it until they were extinguished. He and Sam looked at each other and then back at the now-charred black lumps of what used to be sandwiches.

"Very smooth," Sam murmured before standing up and walking towards the teen boy standing in front of her. "Hey Freddie?"

"Yeah?" He asked looking at her curiously, but he gasped when she suddenly stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently and swiftly on the cheek. In a flash she was turning around.

"What was that for?" he asked, bemused and shocked all at once. She turned back and smiled mysteriously.

"For not being a complete nub for a change," was her answer. "Oh and Frednub, you'd better make an extra sandwich this time. Because of your stupidity, not only am I lacking my grilled cheese, but I'm even hungrier than before."

As she walked away, Freddie grinned to himself as he began to remake the sandwiches. No matter what happened, whether she was modeling one minute, or kissing voluntarily on the cheek the next, she was still the same old Sam Puckett. He looked back into the living room and smiled contently at the beautiful blonde, Thank God she didn't change.

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**AWWWWW! Seddie goodness (: It just feels sooooo gooood! Oh, and that little (1) this next to skittle-ing is just because if you haven't heard of skittle-ing, you're missing out. It's where you throw a ton of skittles on someone's lawn right before it rains and it dyes their law rainbow, kills the grass, and you can't get rid of it. MUAHAHAHA! **

**Well, I hope you liked it. You know what you should do? I'll give you a hint. It starts with 'R' and ends with 'eview'!. Love you guys**


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